


Champions and Heroes

by ScreamingViking



Series: Fire and Lightning [1]
Category: Dragon Age II, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-02
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-02-07 03:14:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 38
Words: 115,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1883004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScreamingViking/pseuds/ScreamingViking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke is thrown into a world utterly foreign to her, where magic is a valued skill, demons live in glowing marbles, and the people are just crazy enough to be her friends.<br/>"Hurtled into the chaos you fight, and the world will shake before you. Is it fate or chance? I can never decide..."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wake up and Smell the Garbage

“I will not be defeated!” Meredith screeched, the haunting red light of lyrium crackling through her armour and bleeding from her eyes. “Maker! Aid your humble servant!”

She raised her unholy sword.

The Chantry lay in ruins. The Gallows burned. Templars and mages alike lay dead everywhere. Hawke had picked her side, but what difference did it make in the end? She had already killed Orsino, and now she would kill Meredith.

Anders she had killed in the chantry courtyard.

Merrill fell as they fought through the city.

Isabella died fighting Orsino.

Aveline was crushed by the fighting statues.

Hawke stood with Fenris and Varric, all that was left of the little family she had held together through sheer force of will, no matter what this blighted city threw at them. It looked like her bad luck had finally outdone her. Her magic reserves were at an all-time low, she didn’t have the strength left to use any of the knife tricks Isabella taught her. Varric was down to his last bundle of crossbow bolts, and even Fenris seemed to be flagging, his sword unsteady in his hand. 

With sweat soaked hair sticking to her face, Hawke charged the mad Templar. Swinging her staff at Meredith; she planned to knock the accursed lyrium sword away and blast her with one last spell.

She should have known better than to expect anything to go according to plan.

The blade of her staff met Meredith’s sword. With a sound of breaking glass, the sword shattered. Shards of the venomous lyrium exploded into the air around them, the blood red power swirled around them like a vortex, enveloping Hawke in an eerie silence. She saw a faint impression of Fenris and Varric knocked back onto the ground and she thought she heard Meredith screaming. It all faded away and she was drowning in a sea of red; it almost felt like the fade only… colder. Maybe she had passed out from exhaustion? Just as the last of her consciousness drained away she heard a chuckle, and an echo of Flemeth from long ago:

_“It is only when you fall that you learn whether you can fly…”_

 

* * *

 

Hawke awoke to the smell of baking bread. Reflecting on how much she loved Oranna’s baking, she stretched luxuriously- and promptly fell off the narrow bed she had been sleeping on.

She was not in her estate. She wasn’t in Varric’s suite at the Hanged Man either; it was far too clean for that. The room was small and plain, with no decorations except for the flowering pot plants in the corner and her trusty staff leaning against a wall. There was a strange fixture on the ceiling, with light streaming from it. It didn’t smell like a candle, but she felt no magic in the room.

Where was she?

The Battle. It was the last thing she remembered; Templars and mages fighting, Meredith with her lyrium sword. The sword shattering… but where was she now?  
She heard footsteps from outside the room, then a muffled voice.

“I think she might have fallen off the bed. Don’t worry, I’ll be careful.” There was a quiet knock before the door opened.

“Oh hello! You’re awake!” The speaker was a teenage girl with a long brown pony tail and a mischievous look in her eye.

“Hello,” replied Hawke “Might you tell me where I am? And what happened to my friends?”

“You’re in Sector 5!” she said, as though that explained everything. “Though, I didn’t see your friends. Sorry.”

Sector 5? Where was that? And what was this girl wearing? She was dressed in nothing more than a thin summer dress, her arms and legs completely exposed. She must be freezing! Pirates aside, nobody dressed like that in Kirkwall. Wait… surely not.

“Sector 5. Right. Where is that exactly? Also, how did I get here?” Hawke stood and started checking her gear. She didn’t want to spend all day being confused by a teenager, she needed to track down Fenris and Varric and make sure they were alright.

“The sector 5 slums, silly! Midgar! I found you on the path outside the house. I don’t know what happened but you were bleeding pretty badly, so I brought you in. My mother didn’t like it but I don’t think you’re dangerous.”

Hawke just stared at her. “You live in the slums and yet you brought a random bleeding stranger into your house? Are you mad?” Usually she would have appreciated not being recognized but she’d spent too many years trying to protect people who kept on courting danger to be pleased with the situation. “You should have listened to your mother. I could have easily hurt both of you!”

The girl looked rather put out “I healed you! I think it’s good to help people,” she said with a stubborn nod of her head.

“Not at the risk of your family,” Hawke said with a sternness that allowed for no argument.

The girl opened her mouth to retort anyway put then paused. Hawke felt something shift. Magic of some form was moving… it almost felt like the fade, but more tangible, and… green? How could something feel green? Hawke hadn’t cast anything, which meant- oh. ‘ _I healed you._ ’ Clearly Hawke was lagging behind this morning.

The girl blinked at her, looking nervous for the first time. “You’re not from around here.”

Hawke didn't recognize whatever spell that was; though she knew it wasn’t an attack. How intriguing. “You’re a mage. Don’t worry; I’m not going to tell the Templars.”

“What?” the girl just looked confused.

“I felt whatever spell you just cast, and you shouldn’t do that by the way, you never know who’ll be able to sense what you’re up to.” Now the girl really did look concerned. “But you don’t need to worry. Like I said, I’m not going to tell the Templars.”

“You… you felt it too? I thought I was the only one... but what’s a Templar?”

That got Hawke’s attention. The conversation that followed was long and confusing.

The girl, who eventually introduced herself as Aerith, peppered Hawke with questions. She interrogated her in turn. Aerith was practically bubbling with the new information. Hawke however, didn’t like what she was hearing.

This was Midgar. Here, there were no elves. No Dwarves. There were no mages either, only expensive baubles with magic sealed inside them. Aerith felt the fade – she kept calling it ‘the life stream’, or even stranger, ‘the planet’ – but she was the only one who could feel it. On the one hand, great! No mages meant no abominations and no Templars! But then, where was she? Where in Thedas were there no elves, let alone no mages? Even the Qunari had mages, and they weren’t from Thedas at all.

Aerith had never heard of Kirkwall. Or Fereldan. Or Orlais, or Tevinter.

“How about Par Vollen? That’s not even in Thedas,” said Hawke, starting to sound a little desperate.

“What’s Thedas?” Aerith asked; head tilted to the side in curiosity.

Hawke put her head in her hand. “Aerith, I think I need a moment. Please.”

“Oh, oh, okay.” She got up from the bed and scuttled out of the room. Hawke barely noticed.

This wasn’t Thedas.

Maybe Aerith was just crazy, or lying. She didn’t act like a crazy person though, and she looked rather honest. Naïve and shy certainly, but that wasn’t madness, just lack of experience. She almost reminded her of Merrill- No, she wasn’t going to think about Merrill - _gasping in pain as the abomination crushed her within her own armour_ - she stood abruptly, trying to dislodge her own memories. The small room was starting to feel stifling, more than Darktown ever had. She grabbed her staff and marched out the door. The rest of the house was no less oppressive, no matter how many flowers were blossoming.

Aerith and an older woman she assumed was the mother were sitting at a table in the dining room.

“Thank you for letting me stay but I have to go.” Hawke spotted the door and kept walking. It was probably in their best interests that she leave. Trouble had always followed her, like a diseased dog that couldn’t be scared off.

She was outside. She could breathe. Wait, no she couldn’t, ugh what was that? The low town docks smelt nicer than this place! It wasn’t quite as bad as Darktown, but then rotting corpses didn’t stink as much as Darktown.

She kept walking despite the smell, taking in her surroundings. There was no sky, just a huge plate sealing off the air above them. Weird.

There was so much metal. How did they smelt it all? And into such odd shapes too. As foreign as much of it seemed, she knew a dangerous slum when she saw one. She felt herself adopting a familiar alertness, a set of instincts finely honed by years of living in Kirkwall’s low town. It was rather calming. And that she found amusing, a stinking slum comforted her while a tidy, flower filled home unnerved her. Her mother would have been appalled.

Her mind clearing from the earlier panic, she took stock of what she had. Her staff was resting comfortably against her back. Her knives were still in their sheaths against her thighs and calves. She was in her best armour set, a second skin by now, and in surprisingly good condition if a little blood soaked – Anders’ blood her traitorous mind whispered – she ruthlessly clamped down on that thought. This wasn’t the time or place.

This wasn’t too bad. She could survive here, wherever ‘here’ was. It didn’t matter, these people spoke the same language, she had enough resources to last as long as necessary and her magic was fully recovered. Maker, she could have woken up in Qunari lands, or the Tevinter Imperium. This was… well, it wasn’t worse than those options, certainly.

She could do this. Hawke would survive, make it back to Kirkwall and find Varric and Fenris. She just desperately hoped they hadn’t been transported somewhere crazy as well.


	2. Fire and Lightning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This Hawke is a mage with generous helpings of rogue added to the mix.

High above the slums, well above the city perched on the plates, rose Shinra headquarters. And near the top of the corporation’s skyscraper, sat two first class Soldiers.

“The director keeps asking me to teach materia classes, as though I have time to waste on incompetent cadets. Don’t they know you’re the teacher?” asked Genesis, cradling his tea protectively while soaking in the morning sun.

“Yes, but I’ve got an apprentice to worry about,” said Angeal, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “And you do have the time; you haven’t had a real mission in weeks.” He settled on the couch across from his friend. “Besides, you are the materia expert. Who better to ask?”

“Literally any one.” Genesis replied, flicking his hair with great indignation. “I want a mission, not a rabid horde of teenagers.”

Looking at his childhood friend, Angeal could tell something wasn’t right. He knew that Genesis hadn’t properly healed from the injury he received over a month ago, and that alone was worrisome, but now something else looked off. The irritability was normal but Genesis was looking tired, ragged almost. Even his red hair seemed to have dulled.

His gaze drifted to the slight bulge of bandages on his friend’s shoulder. Genesis had refused to talk about it.

“Have you heard anything about the Wutai negotiations?” Angeal asked abruptly.

“Yes actually, they aren’t going according to plan. I imagine the ceasefire will be over before the years end. Or perhaps that is according to plan,” Genesis said darkly. “I assume that’s why I’ve been put on standby. The Director won’t let his best leave Midgar if there’s a chance the war might start up again.”

Angeal snorted. “And it’s probably why he’s asking you to help with training. That’s what you get for being the best." He smiled, despite his efforts to remain straight faced. Genesis narrowed his eyes at him.

“You could always hunt monsters," Angeal said, "It’d get you out of the building at least, and the slums need all the help they can get.”

“I suppose,” Genesis sighed, “We can’t have monsters running amok. ‘ _When the war of the beasts brings about the world’s end…_ ’”

Angeal tuned out the recital, having long since grown used to his friend’s poetry obsession. He hoped Genesis would go on a monster hunt; it would probably do him some good to see a little action again.

* * *

 

Hawke was lost. Not that she really knew where she was to begin with, but wherever she was now could probably be deemed more lost.

She had left Aerith’s house and explored, taking the scenic route around the slums. So far she had passed more hovels than you could shake a templar at, a couple of frankly enormous gates, and a bustling market. A few pickpockets had tried targeting her but they were so obvious it was almost insulting. Varric would never have stood for it.

The strange lighting was everywhere. Odd glass bulbs with yellowy light sealed inside them. Nothing felt magical, so she assumed it was just craftiness. She had heard tales of the dwarves creating all sorts of clever things but never on such a scale as this. It would have been fascinating if it wasn’t all so dreary. Everything just felt miserable, like the alienage during a heavy downpour.

The area she wandered through now wasn’t simply miserable, it was downright ominous. It looked abandoned but she could feel eyes following her.

It appeared to be some kind of debris field, filled with the rusted out remains of the giant metal carts she had seen people travelling in. Graffiti decorated most of them and almost every last window had been smashed in. There was no hustle and bustle here; she had left the crowds behind. There was either no good reason for anyone to come here or it was very dangerous. Her gut told her it was latter.

Hawke grinned and kept walking.

She knew she was being reckless. Stupid really. There was absolutely no reason to enter this place, other than the twitch she got from facing problems she couldn't stab. She didn’t even have back up. Perhaps that was why she stubbornly kept walking. Her life was a series of absurd turns of fate, strung together by vicious battles. She was lost and alone in a world that wasn’t hers; habit said it was time to kill something.

Except there didn’t appear to be much to kill. A few rats had scampered about at her approach but there didn’t seem to be anything worth killing. Not a stray darkspawn or even a giant spider. She felt like she’d been ripped off.

With a stubborn quirk of her lips, she kept walking, letting her boots clang against the scrap metal on the ground. Her staff was in her hand and mana was thrumming through her veins in anticipation of a fight. She wasn’t leaving till she got one.

An hour later she still hadn’t found anything. What sort of city would let this splendidly ominous atmosphere go to waste? Misleading was what it was, like advertising a banquet and then expecting the guests to bring their own food. Hawke was not impressed- when suddenly a large and bizarre creature violently barrelled past her. She barely leapt out of the way in time.

A few yards away it turned and faced her. It looked like a Revenant merged with a horse and cart. Its single red eye rested on her, empty and lifeless. An eligor, as she would later find out.

Hawke wasted no time and sent off a quick lightning spell. The familiar weight of her staff sat comfortably in her hands as she manoeuvred into a better position. The eligor recovered from her attack and returned fire.

She felt a pull of magic and hastily summoned a barrier. What felt like a sleep spell bounced off her shield. Gathering her strength she cast Maker’s Fist. The eligor tried to dodge but wasn’t fast enough. The spell swept the creature up into the air over half a dozen metres, and then slammed it violently back onto the ground. The crash of its impact echoed off the metal structures around them.

Chuckling lightly (Hawke had always been amused by that attack), she approached the broken form. It had sustained a lot of damage; limbs she couldn’t name but thought looked important were dangling at odd angles. Better safe than sorry though, it might just be unconscious.

She was concentrating on casting a small lightning storm, just enough to encompass the body, when she was hit with a blow.

It wasn’t a physical hit, though it may as well have been. The eligor had cast silence; Hawke could feel her magic sap away. That was not on.

She rolled out of the way just as it threw a concentrated beam of red light at her. Outraged at having her magic blocked she drew her daggers and promised painful retribution. They were viciously curved blades, gifts from Isabella.

The pirate had spent years training Hawke.

_'We can’t have you helpless whenever some Templar blocks your magic, now can we?_ ” 

Well, it was time to make Isabella proud.

She darted in and kicked it in the knee, grinning madly at the horrid crunch. Slinking back around the creature, she disappeared into the shadows, and then jumped out and stabbed both daggers into its back. The eligor screeched and knocked her back. Ignoring its wounds it threw the beam of cutting light around in a blind rage.

Hawke was kept on the defensive. Dodging and rolling, she could see the damage the beam was doing to solid metal; she had no intention of taking a hit. Dammit, if only her magic would come back already she could finish this menace with a single overcharged burst of lightning. She could already feel mana trickling back into her mind but still not enough for a worthwhile attack.

Just as she was getting ready to strike again the creature caught on fire, seemingly at random.

How convenient. If a little unlikely.

She stared at the burning creature. Now that almost never happened. 

From behind the melting wreck stepped a man with red hair. He wore a red leather coat, and held an equally red sword. She had the sneaking suspicion that maybe, just maybe, he liked the colour red. Or perhaps he was hilariously colour blind.

Saving such mockery for later, she sheathed her daggers.

“Thanks.” she had wanted to finish the fight herself, but she appreciated the help nonetheless.

Her magic felt about half restored now. She hoped she wouldn’t have to fight the strange red man but kept a gravity spell on the back burner just in case.

* * *

 

Genesis didn’t know what to think of the woman in front of him. He had heard reports of an eligor in the area and assumed it was the most interesting fight he was likely to find down here.

He finally found the creature only to see that someone else had apparently found it first. The woman leapt in and out of the shadows, brandishing twin daggers.

Unacceptable.

This was his kill. The woman engaging it seemed to know what she was doing but Genesis hadn’t trekked all the way down here to watch someone else kill an eligor.

He drew his sword and unleashed a powerful fire spell, finishing the creature where it stood. He stepped forward into the dim light and surveyed the woman. He stubbornly  
ignored the painful twinge in his shoulder.

She was heavily armoured for a civilian, with angular plate armour along her right arm and over her boots. Her right hand was encased in a vicious looking gauntlet. The style was strange and unlike any armour he was familiar with. And was that chainmail peeking out from under her leather tunic? Who wore chainmail? He assumed there was materia in the staff on her back as he could feel the tension of magic in the air. She stood tall with short black hair flicking about an expressive and blood splattered face.

“Thanks.” she nodded at him.

He bowed magnanimously. “My pleasure, I assure you,” and he almost meant it. “It is my duty to protect civilians.”

“My condolences.” she smirked at him, before bending down to examine the smoking carcass.

No amount of dry humour would make up for depriving him of a fight, but he was vaguely curious. “Might I ask your name?” 

“Hawke.” she started searching the body. “And you are?”

“Genesis Rhapsodos- What on Gaia are you doing?”

“Nice to meet you too. I’m looting. You don’t search your kills?”

“That is my kill,” he replied coolly. He wouldn’t have picked her for a scavenger, not with such complex and unique armour and weaponry, yet she was sifting through the charred remains of a smoking carcass as though it was all perfectly normal.

“You might have dealt the last blow, but I did all the legwork. Aha!” She brandished a vial smudged with ash. “Now what exactly is this?” she asked, eyeing it curiously.

“It’s an ether, obviously. And you are fortunate I stepped in or you might have spent hours ‘doing the legwork’ as you put it.”

She scoffed. He had saved her and she had the nerve to make light of it. Given her reaction to his name, or lack thereof, she either didn’t know who he was or just didn’t care. He disliked her already.

She looked curiously at him, before uncorking the vial and sniffing experimentally. Her eyes sparkled and her mouth broke out in an alarming grin. She pocketed it and stood.

“Well! Thank you for your assistance, Ser Rhapsodos.” She bowed low in a distinctly mocking fashion. “Perhaps I’ll see you around.”

“Wait a minute,” he began, stepping forward, “You-” blinding pain hit him. He clutched his shoulder and another wave of pain washed over him. Dammit, not now! His vision swam, was he still standing? He couldn’t tell, pain overrode everything and his consciousness left him.

 

* * *

 

Hawke stood alone with her head tilted.

How unexpected. 

The red man, Genesis, had been on the verge of making a demand, she would know that look anywhere, when he winced and then promptly passed out.

Not entirely sure what to make of the situation, she prodded him. No reaction. He did look to be in a fair amount of pain, going by the frozen grimace on his face.  
Her practised eye recognized the bulge of a bandage on his right shoulder. He had clutched at it before collapsing. Was that the problem? Why would a shoulder wound make someone pass out like that? He looked perfectly fine seconds before.

She did technically owe him one, she supposed. She knelt down, looking around her to ensure it wasn't a trap, and snapped her fingers over his face.

No reaction. He looked the sort of person who would set her on fire for that, had he been concious. 

With a sigh she tugged at his collar. Beneath the red coat and black shirt heavy bandages covered his colour bone and shoulder. Hesitantly she pulled back the wrappings, and found a vicious seeping wound.

That explained the fainting. It wasn’t particularly deep but it looked dangerously infected, the skin discoloured with blackened veins bulging around it. What sort of lunatic would go gallivanting about with such a serious wound? And so close to major arteries!

She knew she wasn’t the most proficient healer. Her talents ran more to lightening, entropy, and force attacks. Bethany had been the healer and then Anders. However she wasn’t completely incompetent. She had helped in the Dark town clinic more times than she could count, and if anyone got hurt when Anders wasn’t around then she played de-facto healer.

She focused on the wound. Redirecting her mana to it, the colour returned to his skin and it slowly closed- but there was something else. Deep inside there was something corrupting and malevolent wrapped tightly around his very being. It felt almost like a part of him, even as it slowly tore him apart. It reminded her of what she felt in Anders, or Carver, the day he was infected by a darkspawn.

Was this man a grey warden? He didn’t look like one. This corruption didn’t feel exactly like the taint of the darkspawn, but it was no less insidious.  
Nobody could heal corruption of this level. Not even the Grey Wardens. Certainly not Hawke.

He looked to be stirring. She stood and retreated. Carefully watching her step she started trekking her way through the rubble. If there had been more she could have done to help him, she would have. She wouldn’t wish the taint on anybody.

Well, not on many people anyway.


	3. One Step Forward

Hawke had intended to pick a few pockets, find a cheap inn, and then settle down for the night. Perhaps she would even visit a pub and talk to any intriguing looking strangers. It was her tried and true method for gathering both information and funny looks. Then she would start to put together a plan, maybe look into getting some work, and be one step closer to finding her way home.

None of that happened.

Instead she ran into Aerith again. The teenager was being swarmed by a group of monsters, and going by her limp, was obviously wounded. Without stopping to consider whether or not it was in any way her business, she began dishing out lightning strikes.

Now she was back in the house filled with flowers.

Aerith had offered her a room for the night before retiring for the evening. Hawke was trying not to flinch under the glare of the mother, Elmyra. She might face down charging ogres on a regular basis but something about a mother’s I’m-so-disappointed-in-you stare made her feel like a little girl in pigtails again. She didn’t even know this woman! And she had just saved Aerith from a swarm of monsters.

Elmyra sat down across from her at the kitchen table, smoothing out her apron and the long green dress beneath it. Her brown hair was pulled back into a bun, wisps of a fringe edging a face lined by stress.

“Aerith told me that you scolded her for healing you this morning,” the older woman said in a carefully neutral tone. “She said that you know what she is and that you are the same.”

Hawke’s store of amassed information was pitifully underwhelming. From what she had gathered, Aerith was half human and half ‘Cetra’, which sounded a like a race of mages. Only their magic wasn’t quite the same as Hawke’s, and there had been no mention of demons. If anything it reminded Hawke of the Dalish elves, they were apparently in tune with nature and the world itself but began to die out when the humans arrived. Aerith was the last of the Cetra, and currently living in hiding.

“I am human, if that’s what you’re asking,” Hawke said, “But I know that your daughter has a connection to the fade- uh, planet. I have something similar.”

Elmyra narrowed her eyes in suspicion. She sighed and summoned a blue mage light, the wispy ball of mana floating in her hand and then dispersing when she closed her fist. The older woman lowered her head.

“She went after you, when you left this morning. She said it was because you might get lost, but it wasn’t really.” Elmyra fixed her eyes on Hawke, “Aerith knows she’s different, but she’s always wanted just to fit in, to be normal. She may have only met you this morning but in her eyes you are one of her kind.”

Her mind turned to thoughts of Bethany. Darling, sweet, Bethany; who only ever wanted to be normal. She had been so ashamed of being a mage, as though it were somehow her fault that they had to hide from the Templars. Bethany had looked up to her, had always trusted that her big sister would protect her. It might have been almost nine years since her death but the loss still hurt to think about. To remember her mother, tears streaming down her face, asking how she could have let this happen… Elmyra cleared her throat.

“I don’t know who you are or why you’re here. But I don’t want my daughter getting into danger at the example of a strange woman she’s only just met.”

“My name is Hawke. I’m a mercenary, or an adventurer I suppose. I’m new to Midgar.” The woman in front of her just wanted to protect her family. She could respect that. “I didn’t mean to end up at your house or endanger Aerith. I know it must look bad, her following me and then being brought back covered in blood, but I assure you, very little of it was hers.”

It occurred to Hawke that she wasn’t helping her cause. How did Varric make it look so easy? Had it been anything else she wouldn’t have minded Elmyra thinking it was her fault. After all she was quite used to everything being her fault, but a desperate mother asking her how she could let her little mage girl get hurt was too close to home. Some things you just couldn’t leave behind.

“I probably shouldn’t have told her that I’m a mage, but I was a little out of sorts at the time,” she continued. “When I saw her being attacked I did everything I could. I’m sorry she was injured.” The reasonable part of her mind said that this wasn’t really her business and the best course of action was a swift exit. “I’ll leave early or now if you like, so that she can’t follow me again. Though I think you should find someone to protect your daughter, or at the very least someone to teach her how to use her own magic. An untrained mage is a danger to themselves.”

Elmyra eyed Hawke’s staff leaning against the wall, its blade glinting in the dim kitchen light.

“You’re a mercenary?” the older woman finally asked. “And a… a mage, you called it?”

Her eyes were calculating. Her tone said she was about to ask for something.

Hawke’s internal ‘I’m-about-to-make-a-terrible-decision’ alarm started clanging.

After peppering her with enough questions to ensure she wasn’t a psychopath or a wanted criminal ( _not on this world_ , she idly thought) Elmyra finally made her request.

She wanted her to be Aerith’s bodyguard.

They talked on and on, eventually coming to an agreement. Elmyra would provide food and lodgings and in return Hawke would protect Aerith and teach her how to use her own powers, assuming her own knowledge turned out to be compatible. Most importantly, she would ensure that the tyrannical Shinra didn’t steal the young mage away.

Hawke just knew that somewhere Anders would be looking very smug.

 

* * *

 

Genesis looked out across Midgar.

The city stretched out, far below the expansive windows of his office. Everything was bathed in a hazy golden glow from the light afternoon light that pierced the smog.

He had just received the latest lab results from Hollander. His body’s degradation marched on, though it appeared to have been stalled, while his shoulder was now completely healed.

Hollander couldn’t understand it. No potions, no materia, or even traditional medicine had brought the slightest improvement to the wound. Now there was barely a scar.

To Genesis’ endless vexation, he couldn’t even remember how it had happened. One minute he was talking to a woman in the train graveyard, the next he was waking up to find his unhealable wound had been healed.

_“Infinite in mystery is the gift of the goddess…_ ” he recited to himself. As much as he appreciated this particular gift, the mystery he would not stand for.

He narrowed his eyes at the city beneath him. Somewhere under that giant metal plate was the woman who had fixed his shoulder and then bolted before he could even thank her, let alone interrogate her as he needed to. He had to know how she did it and what it would take to heal him completely. Hollander had his own theories, but the ramblings about clones and copies no longer seemed plausible. In nothing more than a few short minutes someone had healed the pain he had suffered for months, while Hollander had spent that time floundering amidst old notes and fragmented theories.

His estimation of the portly scientist was quickly dropping. After all, if Hollander had been competent Genesis’ body wouldn’t be falling to pieces in the first place. No, the answer to this puzzle wasn’t going to come from Shinra or its lackeys. He should have seen that from the beginning.

He had a name at least: Hawke. It wasn’t much, but it would suffice. If he truly became desperate he might even ask the assistance of the Turks. They need not know why he wanted to find her, though he would prefer to keep his investigation away from Shinra’s vicious little pawns.

Speaking of Shinra’s pawns, he was supposed to meet Sephiroth and Angeal in the latter’s office soon. Perhaps he ought to mention that his wound had healed. Maybe then Angeal would stop giving him worried looks whenever he thought he wasn’t looking.

Angeal didn’t realise yet but it was only a matter of time before his own body began to degrade. He didn’t know that the weakness he saw in Genesis was his own inevitable end, the end that Shinra had damned the both of them to.

Not if Genesis found Hawke again.

He would find the answers. He would save his friend and himself, no matter what it took. Even if he had to burn all of Midgar to the ground, he would save them both.

He would be the hero.

 

* * *

 

Hawke was an idiot.

What had she been thinking? ‘Sure I’ll babysit your teenager!’ How on Thedas did she ever think that was a good idea?

She had been in Midgar for over a week. She had spent the majority of the time either ‘guarding’ Aerith, which amounted to watching her potter about in a garden in a dilapidated chantry (here they were called ‘churches’ apparently), or training the girl.

The guarding was peaceful. Hawke didn’t remember how to be peaceful, so their time was filled with training.

There wasn’t anything inherently wrong with the situation; Aerith was polite, respectful, and competent. She had the makings of a very powerful mage. Hawke started with some basic healing spells, it was how her father taught her, and how she taught Bethany.

Aerith picked it up immediately. She was obviously a budding spirit healer, just as Bethany had been. She liked helping people, just as Bethany had. Hawke tried not to resented her for it. She didn’t want to be reminded of the sister she had failed, the sister she had never really mourned because there were darkspawn everywhere and then a dragon and then Kirkwall’s locked gates.

The whole endeavour was far more emotionally draining that she had anticipated.

It was a trial to keep reminding herself not to see other people in Aerith. She didn’t need that right now, on top of everything that had happened at the gallows- which she still wasn’t thinking about.

It occurred to Hawke that her tendency to use survival as an excuse to not think about her loses was one meltdown away from backfiring spectacularly. It was unfair on Aerith, who was obviously thrilled about the whole situation. She looked so relieved at having someone to talk to about the voices she heard, someone who didn’t think her powers were scary.

The voices Aerith was born hearing seemingly came from the planet itself. She admitted it with a lot of hesitance, obviously never having told anyone other than Elmyra. Hawke asked what the planet said about her. Apparently it didn’t know what to make of her but thought she made a nice addition anyway. Hawke had snorted and then talked her through techniques for ignoring constant mental bombardment and what to do if she met any malicious spirits in the life stream.

Even if she was officially the teacher Hawke was learning a lot as well.

This place, this world, it was insane.

Everything was so complicated nobody actually knew how any of it worked. No one could tell her how a light bulb worked, despite there being hundreds of the things everywhere. No one knew how magic (you could call it ‘mako’ as much as you liked, Hawke knew magic when she felt it) was drilled up from the ground, processed into Not Magic, and then used to fuel everything.

Aerith  showed her a world map. She assured Hawke that if you continued beyond the right edge of the map you just wound up on the left edge again. Wherever Thedas was, she wouldn’t be sailing there. Magic had made this problem, hopefully magic could fix it.

Then there was Shinra; the business that ran the world. They pumped their soldiers full of mako, renamed them SOLDIERS, and promptly started conquering everyone. It was as though the Templars had trained the mages into warriors and then went invading, which was actually a wasted opportunity now that she thought about it.

Apparently she had even met one of these SOLDIERs, one of the most famous ones in fact. First Class Soldier Genesis Rhapsodos, or ‘the warrior poet’ according to some ridiculous posters . _Varric would just love this_ she had thought at the sight of the glossy, full colour poster draped over the side of a building.

Genesis was apparently one of Shinra’s finest. She should have guessed; he definitely had the air of someone who thought himself rather fabulous. He would do wonderfully in Orlais.

On the first couple of days Hawke had felt as though they were being watched. Their spectator was obviously very skilled; it had taken her three days to catch a glimpse of them. If she hadn’t been on the Antivan Crows’ hit list for four years she never would have noticed the unassuming dark blue suit perched on one of the nearby rooftops. Aerith had said they were friends from Shinra, which struck Hawke as highly unlikely. Since it was obvious the girl knew they were there and they didn’t appear to be threatening Hawke made a point of waving obnoxiously to the next one she saw. The messy looking red head waved right back. His bald partner was not amused.

Right now Hawke was alone again.

She had dropped Aerith off at the house and left after a quick dinner. The house was starting to feel stifling again. After nearly a decade of Varric and Isabela’s irreverence, spending an entire week with an innocent teenager was something of a shock. It was a Thursday evening and years of tradition said she was supposed to be down at the Hanged Man with her friends, drinking terribly ale and losing just so much money at cards. She didn’t think she could handle being locked inside the cheery house right now.

She wove her way through the slums, looking for a place she had spotted earlier. The Fat Chocobo. As respectably seedy an alehouse as she could ask for. A rusty old sign edged with blown out lights proudly displayed the name, a picture of a fat chicken thing wearing a funny hat was dangling underneath the letters. The sounds of spirited revelry accompanied by a jaunty tune could be heard from outside. Hawke smiled broadly and pushed the door open.

The poorly lit pub reeking of beer and vomit felt a little bit like home. 

 


	4. Two Steps Sideways

Aerith watched from the Kitchen as Hawke left the house.

She was washing the dishes from dinner while Elmyra read a book in the living room. Dunking her hands in the warm soapy water felt so relaxing after a week of forcing magic through her fingers, digits more used to weeding gardens than wielding their own power. It was draining in a way she wasn’t used to; her body could still be bursting with energy while her mind was completely exhausted.

How Hawke could to cast so many complicated spells so casually was a mystery to Aerith. But then, almost everything about Hawke was a mystery.

She hadn’t thought it particularly odd finding an unconscious person outside her house; there were all sorts of unconscious people in the slums. The planet however, seemed to be very agitated about it. When she had first spoken to Hawke, Aerith felt the planet’s confusion. The tangled murmurs had eventually condensed into one word: _Outsider._

That Hawke had felt it too (though apparently not heard it), was enough to make Aerith both very confused and very excited. Some part of her had always been afraid that the voices she heard weren’t really the planet, that maybe she was just crazy. Sometimes, after hearing the things whispered by the life stream, she wished she was crazy. Now there was no denying it, somebody else could also feel the planet fluttering about them all.

But how was that possible? She knew she was the last Ancient. It was why Shinra was so interested in her, why she had spent the first seven years of her life trapped in a lab. Who was this woman? This clearly human lady who both felt and called upon the life stream with the experience of a master, but who the planet didn’t recognize? It didn’t make any sense. The planet agreed.

Talking to Hawke hadn’t made it any clearer.

Hawke knew so many strange things. Sometimes it made Aerith laugh, like the warning about buying glamour charms (“Your enemies are supposed to be too distracted to attack you, but I always get distracted while trying to put it on!”). Other times, the things Hawke knew scared her. Her warnings about making deals with spirits had not been half hearted. Aerith asked if she had ever seen someone make a deal like that. Hawke’s smile had become very forced before she changed the subject.

For the first time in her life she noticed how much she relied on the voice of the planet. It had always felt easy to understand other people, to see what they were suffering under and what they hid from the world. It was why she had so few friends, seeing the burdens and the hidden meaning beneath every word was too overwhelming for her.

With Hawke however, she couldn’t see anything. All she saw was the smiling face and the twirling staff. The planet couldn’t see inside Hawke and so had nothing to share. When asked about it Hawke had laughed and said that the planet was far too nosey for her tastes. That left Aerith a little bewildered. Was this how everyone else felt? How did they make friends when they couldn’t hear what was really being said? Hawke’s face may have been expressive but Aerith understood so very little of the emotions flittering across it. It was frustrating, this mysterious woman knew so much but Aerith didn’t know how to get close to her.

Even without the aid of the planet, however, there were things Aerith noticed. Wherever Hawke was from she desperately wanted to get back, but at the same time she seemed to be dreading it. Many of Aerith’s questions she would laugh off, but sometimes Hawke would wince and abruptly change the subject. Something really bad must have happened. It had to have been awful to make someone like Hawke, who could laugh about being hit with fireballs, actually flinch.

Even stranger though were the things that the foreign woman didn’t know. Aerith had never thought herself an expert on anything (except maybe flowers) but on some subjects she knew so much more than the older woman it was weird.

She didn’t know what phones were, she was mystified by simple light bulbs, and the very idea of mako seemed ridiculous to Hawke.

Aerith had thought she was joking when she asked what Shinra was.

She was very concerned when she realised the question was sincere.

Now, a week after their training had begun, Aerith knew so much more about her own powers, and had so many questions about things she had never even thought about.

She couldn’t stop thinking about the first clear word the planet had whispered about Hawke.

_Outsider_.

Hawke didn’t seem to be a threat, and the planet was even more confused by that. Aerith had picked up some vague whispers about a calamity and weapons, but none of it made any sense to the girl. Finally the planet seemed to calm down a little. Now it was more curious than confused. Hawke was no longer _Outsider_ , but simply _Visitor_. Aerith was determined to be a good host. For all of Hawke’s oddities Aerith liked the woman. She wanted to be her friend.

None of these things Aerith told Elmyra.

When asked she told her adoptive Mother about the healing spells she was learning.

The healing she had cast over Hawke when she first found her was apparently very basic. After a lot of theory Hawke had lead her out to the streets for practise, where she had Aerith healing children who hurt themselves playing. When asked they said she was just levelling up her materia.

Aerith had asked her if she was going to learn how to defend herself beyond a simple spirit bolt. Hawke replied that she wouldn’t teach her how to fight until she could damn near resurrect someone. Aerith didn’t mind at all. Healing was a good, useful skill, and it made everyone so happy. It even worked on bruised flower petals as she had been delighted to discover.

She didn’t really need to fight. After all, she already had a bodyguard.

 

* * *

 

Hawke scrutinized her opposition over her cards.

For all his leering the dishevelled red head had one hell of a poker face.

The Fat Chocobo had turned out to be a delightful mess of a pub. The beer wasn’t too bad, though obviously watered down, and the patrons were chiefly happy, if rowdy, drunks.

She had been halfway through her second drink when she felt a hand at her pocket. Reaching back she caught the arm and dragged the attached person into view. She was met with a messy red head in a crumpled dark blue suit.

He didn’t seem at all bothered at being caught and shot her a sly grin. She recognised him as the spy who had waved back at her while observing her and Aerith.

“Hello!” Hawke greeted merrily, depositing him on the bar stool next to her. “Looking for anything in particular?”

“Just a couple of drinks yo,” he drawled, spinning on the stool to face the rest of the pub, his back and elbows resting casually on the bar.

“You smell as though you’ve already found them,” said Hawke, keeping her eye on him. He had just tried to pick her pocket after all.

“Eh, could always do with a couple more,” he said with a shrug, “So, new to Midgar, huh?”

“What gave me away?”

“The accent. Nobody sounds that fancy in the slums. You gotta be from, what, Banora?”

“You can’t tell? You need to get out more.” If he couldn’t already spot a Fereldan accent when he heard one then he didn’t need to, as far as she was concerned.

He signalled the bartender who slid him a beer.

Hawke was pretty sure drinking with this guy was a terrible idea, but ale was always better with company and besides, she could out drink an alcoholic dwarf.

The two got along like a house on fire. He called himself Reno and he was as irreverent and brazen as Hawke could ask for. Isabella would love this guy, she thought.

It hadn’t taken long for them to set up an impromptu card game, something the locals called ‘poker’. It turned out to be surprisingly similar to diamondback and Hawke was just as hopeless at it. Still, she might play terribly but she could cheat with the best of them. Clearly the same could be said for Reno, except for the not playing well part.

They had been playing for quite some time by now, Hawke had no idea how many drinks’ she’d been through or how many games she’d lost. Determined to regain some of her tattered pride, she looked for cracks in Reno’s mask. The goggles resting on his forehead kept the majority of his hair from falling in his face, though a few unruly strands fell wherever they damn well pleased. He had a red line under each eye following his cheek bones. Whether they were scars, tattoos, or just hopelessly misapplied eye-liner Hawke couldn’t say. He wasn’t as young as she had first assumed. His lanky body and the slouching demeanour gave the impression of a lazy youth, the vibrant and out of control hair completing the look. Something about him contradicted that though. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but she suspected that for all his lazy sprawling he wasn’t a push over.

“So, babe, are all those blood stains from monsters or am I gonna end up in a dumpster after this?” Reno asked, idly rearranging his cards.

“Well that depends on how you define monsters, but I’ll only throw you in a dumpster if you ask nicely,” she said. She had scrubbed her tunic endlessly but the stains had barely faded.

“Can’t see any of the slum dwellers going after you,” he said casually. She heard the underlying question, but where that blood came from wasn’t something she was going to think about today.

“Yeah, that’s why I carry a big stick around. Ran into a SOLDIER who seemed to think I was in desperate need of rescuing but I suppose they see everyone that way.”

“What, some bored little recruit trying to save the damsel in distress?” he asked with a smirk.

“A first class apparently, ginger bastard stole my kill. Still, saved me time I guess.”

“Ginger…” He gave her an odd look “Rhapsodos stole your kill?” he sounded sceptical.

“Apparently, or at least somebody claiming to be him who is equally bad at colour co-ordination.”

Reno snorted

“Tell him that.”

"Are you sure he’s not just colour blind?” Reno choked on his drink while Hawke continued, “He thought his coat was a rich forest green and nobody had the heart to tell him otherwise.”

“Yeah, maybe I’ll ask him, next time I’m feeling suicidal.” He finished off his beer. “So, you were so offended by Rhapsodos you decided to hide in the church huh?”

“Pretty much. The flowers have much better fashion sense,” Hawke said airily, focusing on her cards.

“They even come with a free teenager.”

“Fancy that,” she said, her somewhat inebriated mind thought he might be getting at something.

“She’s not as pretty as you though,” he replied, his tone mocking.

“Hardly her fault.”

“True. She seems friendly enough.”

“You’d think someone from the slums would know better.”

“Yeah, she took you in quick enough.” His eyes watched lazily her over his cards.

“A bad call do you think?” Hawke asked.

“You tell me.” His tone was no longer joking. Ah. So that’s what this was about.

“I’ve been hired to do a job,” she said, keeping her tone light “The only threat I pose to her is the occasional blood splatter.”

“Better be careful then. Blood has a way of getting on everything,” he said, his voice suddenly empty. “And it doesn’t wash out you know. But I guess you know all about that.”

Hawke heard the threat. She wasn’t going to rise to the it, there was a lot to be said for letting the top dog bark a bit. She didn’t know how important Reno was to Shinra, though she assumed not very, and it was far too soon to be stepping on toes.

“Yeah, I do know. I think I’ve collected enough blood stains.” she was holding a losing hand anyway.

The game ended, and Hawke got up to go pay her tab.

“Interesting game,” she said, squeezing passed Reno on her way out “Perhaps I’ll get better with a little practise.”

He smirked “You’re not bad, for a first timer.”

Hawke gave him a half-hearted smile and left.

 

* * *

 

Reno stayed seated, staring at his empty glass. He didn’t look up until his boss sat down across from him.

“Well?” Tseng asked, as business like as always.

“We don’t have to worry.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. She’s not going to get in the way if things change. As is, she’ll probably just make our job easier.”

“Did you find out where she’s from?”

“She wouldn’t say. Can’t spot the accent.” Reno was glaring at his empty glass again.

“You didn’t check her ID?” Tseng asked.

“Nope, she’s quick I’ll give her that. She noticed me trying to pick her pocket.” Reno sounded almost amused.

“Hm. Alright, I’ll expect your full report tomorrow morning.” They both stood.

Tseng made a swift exit. Reno’s hand went to his pocket as he went to pay his bill, only to find his wallet missing.


	5. Unfortunate Truths

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since the Rules of magic are fairly wishy washy in FF7 and I'm more familiar with dragon age, I'll be sticking with the latter's lore for the most part. Any places where they don't overlap nicely will simply be duct taped together.

As a mage, sleeping wasn’t as straight forward for Hawke as it probably ought to have been.

When she hit the sack at the end of the day she might drift into oblivion like everybody else and wake up the next day energized and ready to slay entire hordes of spiders. Alternatively, she might enter the Fade and spend the night arguing with emotionally manipulative demons who wanted to eat her soul. Facing literal demons that knew all her secrets and were just waiting to use them against her every other night was one of the inescapable quirks of being a mage.

Tonight was the first time Hawke had entered the Fade since leaving Thedas. Every other night she had slept peacefully with no dreams. She theorized it was because the veil felt so ragged and abused in Gaia. According to Aerith it was due to the mako reactors, violently churning up the lifestream. Even in Kirkwall, where the veil was infamously thin after millennia of slaughter and forbidden magic, the Fade wasn’t as tattered as it was in Midgar. Hawke was struck by how inconsistent it was here; in some places the veil was as delicate as Orlesian silk, while in others it was as thick and impenetrable as castle walls.

As sleep had took her she finally crossed over into the Fade. She felt her mind being tugged into the spiritual realm and smiled at the familiar sensation. She certainly didn’t relish the nightly temptations but for her it was normal and an integral part of life.

She looked around only to see that this was not normal.

The ground wasn’t the usual dirt mounds of the fade she had seen all her life. Here the ground was dry, red clay, interrupted by curving white pillars rising up out of the ground at various angles. The floating islands reminded her of the carcasses of great beasts, the last of their weathered flesh stubbornly clinging to bleached bones. Even the air was different; it was a faint green that swirled about, instead of a dirty Ferelden brown. It was completely silent.

She explored the odd terrain, keeping her guard up and her staff in her hand. She found nothing. The pillars on their floating islands stood quiet and alone. It felt wrong. Hawke was aware that there were no real mages in Gaia, but she hadn’t expected the Fade to be so barren. There weren’t any demons, not even the odd fade spirit just minding its own business. It was just… vacant.

She didn’t like it.

Experience had taught her that anomalies within the Fade were not a good thing. Sometimes oddities were simply the result of an unusually talented mage but unusually cunning predators were guaranteed to follow. The boy Feynriel stuck out in Hawke’s mind; born with the ancient and long forgotten ability to shape the Fade itself, he was tormented by some of the most powerful demons Hawke had ever seen. 

Far more often peculiarities were simply the work of demons.  In any other context Hawke loved the wild and unexpected nature of life, but when it came to magic, anything outside of the status quo was almost always a disaster in the making. It was a lesson she wished she had learnt sooner, as images of a smashed mirror and a Dalish campsite dripping with blood passed through her mind. Life was not a gentle teacher.

Eventually she came across a washed out version of Aerith’s house. It was the only real landmark she had seen in the otherwise empty realm. However, since the house was here that meant that there was at least one other person in this strange place. She entered and made her way upstairs. The interior was the typical washed out version of life that was apparently common to every corner of the Fade.

She reached the second level only to pause in shock.

Rather than the bland corridor leading to three bedrooms and a bathroom, Hawke found herself in an endless field of flowers. There was no sky, just an endless expanse of white. The Fade had always operated on its own terms, normal rules didn’t apply here and the laws of physics were humble suggestions, at best. This, however, was not right.

If there was one truth that could be counted on in the Fade it was the Black city. No matter where you were or how many demons were eating your soul, the Black city was always visible. Always within sight but never within reach. If the Chantry was to be believed, it was the once golden seat of the Maker forever tarnished by the ancient Magisters of Tevinter. While it had just dawned on Hawke that she hadn’t been able to see the city from outside the house either, this white void made it inescapably obvious. She didn’t know what to make of that revelation.

“Hello, Hawke!”

A few meters away Aerith crouched amidst the flowers, delicately tending to a blooming lily. She looked perfectly at home.

“Hi, Aerith.” Hawke wasn’t surprised to find her surrounded by endless flowers, it was practically a given, even if the obsession struck Hawke as rather odd.

“Do you really spend every night gardening? After gardening all day in the church?”

Aerith smiled up at her “I’ve been too busy healing to properly tend to the flowers. They were missing me,” she said lightly. “Why, what do you usually do here?”

“I’m usually dealing with uninvited guests. I’m quite popular here you see; I wouldn’t have time to garden even if I wanted to.”  Hawke scrutinized the air. There really wasn’t anything here, it was just endless nothing. An airy, well lit expanse of nothing.

“Does it always look like this?” That it was Aerith surrounded by this anomaly made her uneasy.

“Hmm? The flowers? They’ve grown here for as long as I remember. Is this the Fade you mentioned?”

“Yes, this is the Fade. It doesn’t usually look like this though. There are usually more… you know, things.” Hawke gestured at the vast whiteness.

Aerith giggled softly “There’s a trap-door under that patch of green lilies over there. It leads back to the house.”

“I’ve never seen any place in the Fade like this before.” The Fade usually took forms familiar to you, or at least, your mind chose to see it in familiar forms.

“I thought the flowers might like it.”

“You… what?”

“The flowers don’t grow so well outside, there isn’t enough light.”

“So you brought the flowers here?”

Aerith shook her head.

“No silly! I brought the light here. It used to be cold and green, it wasn’t bright enough. The flowers have been so much happier since.”

Oh dear.

“How exactly did you do that, Aerith?” Hawke asked slowly, hoping this wasn’t what it obviously was.

“How? Oh, are you testing me?” Aerith giggled and then bit her lip. “Well, I wanted to see the sky at first. Since… I’ve never seen the sky. Outside, when I’m awake, I mean. When I realised I was dreaming I thought maybe I could make the sky here, the way I imagined it.” She looked around at the bright void, “It didn’t work very well; I managed to get rid of the green but I didn’t know what to replace it with. I suppose I don’t really know what the sky is meant to look like. The Flowers seem to like this though.”

Hawke had wanted to know what exactly the last Cetra was. Now she knew.

Aerith was a Dreamer, a Somniari, a fade-shaper like the Ancient Elves of Arlathan. Without the least bit of training she had reshaped the sky on a whim and considered it a failure. She was clearly far more powerful than Feynriel, and she was looking to her for guidance.  

Hawke sat down abruptly. Why did life keep throwing these things at her?

“At least the flowers are happy,” Hawke said lightly, lying down amongst the blossoms. Aerith frowned.

“You’re crushing the lilies.”

 

* * *

 

The next morning Hawke and Aerith returned to the church. They were taking a few days off training so that Aerith could recover a little and internalize what she had learnt so far. The girl’s potential might be endless but the same could not yet be said of her stamina.

Reno was standing outside the church looking distinctly Not Impressed. Hawke threw him his wallet and thanked him for the drinks. The muttering red head wandered off and she dumped a bulky bag of books on the first pew. They had ventured to the closest library, which wasn’t very close at all, and rented everything they could find on the Cetra.

Hawke had never been much of a scholar but if she was to help Aerith then she would need more information. She wished she still had that book Keeper Marethari had given her about the last Dalish Dreamers. She was no fade-shaper herself but she had met the only other living one and she knew that such powers shouldn’t be left untrained. Feynriel had almost crumbled under the weight of his own abilities; she wouldn’t let that happen to Aerith.

She remembered the Dalish Keeper saying that very few fade-shapers survived until adulthood. Powerful demons were drawn to them like Orlesians to silky pantaloons.

Evidence suggested that, maybe, there were no demons in Gaia. Hawke wasn’t going to take that risk. Maybe she was being paranoid. Less, or even no demons would be a blessing she should be rejoicing over. Why was she complaining? Was it fair to spread her paranoia to Aerith?

It only took one demon to make an abomination.

She couldn’t let that go. Until she had absolute, irrefutable evidence that Gaia held not one single demon, she would remain vigilant. And she would teach Aerith to do the same.  When did she start sounding so much like Fenris?

Amidst the endless notes and diagrams Hawke also hoped there might be some mention of Thedas. Or if not Thedas itself then at least some small reference to the things she was familiar with. She’d settle for even a mention of the Qunari at this point. No matter how much she denied it, she was getting homesick.

So Aerith gardened and Hawke studied. At lunch she dropped the teenager back at the house and went monster hunting. It was enough to keep the action starved part of her sated and it paid rather well too. In the afternoon she had Aerith practise her healing again.   

It was a pattern they would follow for the next few months. At the end of the week Hawke ran into Reno at the Fat Chocobo. She ended up playing cards with him again, and found that for all his obnoxious attitude and potentially very dangerous connections he made for a decent drinking buddy. He told the most outrageous stories and she did the same. He never spoke of Shinra and she never mentioned Aerith. After a few weeks they established an unexpected sort of camaraderie. They would drink, gamble and pick each other’s pockets, for conversation they told nothing but lies and neither believed anything. It was perfectly relaxing as far as Hawke was concerned.

Eventually rumours reached below the plate of the war Shinra was again fighting on foreign soil. The ceasefire had ended and troops were redeployed. Whispers of a SOLDIER rebellion spread. But then the war ended and the whispers were declared false. Shinra plastered the city with huge posters of the SOLDIER heroes who had crushed the Wutai threat, boldly declaring their victory before the entire world. Atop the plate there were parades and parties and fireworks as Shinra patted itself on the back.

Beneath the plate, the slums were a just a little more drunk than usual. 

* * *

 

Hawke crossed the veil again.

She was more used to this corner of the Fade now, so much so that it had become boring. Aerith’s white void of flowers was no more interesting, regardless of how unique it was. At least an influx of pushy demons would have given her something to do. Over four months of sitting around in a broken church, and fighting nothing more than the occasional whimpering monster. She was almost missing Kirkwall’s infestation of cave spiders.

Almost.

Thus Hawke went back to exploring.

She crossed several of the floating Islands, seeking anything worthy of note. The red mounds of clay and randomly dispersed white pillars were unchanging.

Or not. She crested a hill and saw carnage.

Rows of the glowing white columns had been sliced clean through, leaving giant pieces of abused masonry decorating the landscape. The ground itself had been sliced in places, leaving long gauges of upturned clay.

Perhaps this wasn’t the vacant lot she thought it was, but rather the territory of something big enough to keep everything else out. Contrary to popular believe she could tell when she was swimming in dangerous waters, and right now she felt a little out of her depth. It took all of her self-control not to start grinning like a mad woman and go searching for excitement. Boredom did dangerous things to her.

She was walking through the debris when she heard a voice.

_“Ripples form on the water's surface…_ ”

It was coming from over the next hillock.

“… _The wandering soul knows no rest.”_

Making her way around she saw Genesis Rhapsodos, sitting quite comfortably on an outcropping.

How curious. Was he also one of the Cetra? Or perhaps there were normal mages in Thedas after all? If he had anything to do with the field of rubble she had just crossed then ‘normal’ was not the appropriate term.

_“Dreams of the morrow hath the shattered soul,_  
 _Pride is lost, wings stripped away, the end is nigh…_ ”

He was reciting from a leather bound book he held, his captive audience a grove of bizarre trees. Each of their trunks grew in a curving arch; all in a row they made a natural corridor.

“Tough crowd?” she asked, leaning against the nearest of the trees.

He looked up, startled by the interruption. When he spotted her though he appeared pleased, he snapped his book shut and gracefully stood.

“Hawke.” He bowed slightly.

“Ser Rhapsodos.” Hawke nodded back.  

He studied her closely, looking contemplative. “I need to find you,” he finally said.

“I believe _I_ found _you,_ ” Hawke answered with a slight smile. “Why? Did you need something?”

“The gift of the Goddess,”  he said softy, looking off into the distance, “ _We seek it thus, and take to the sky…”_

“…What?” poetry was not her strong suit.

He sighed and turned back to her. “I need healing.”

Hawke sighed, “I don’t suppose you mean your shoulder do you?” She suspected what he was looking for; she dreaded having to tell him it was impossible.

“Not for my shoulder. The healing you gave has not been undone.” He approached her, watching her closely, “How did you do it?”

“It was just a simple healing spell. I’m sorry that it wasn’t enough,” she said sincerely.

He scoffed. “Do not take me for a fool; no amount of materia could fix that wound. Now tell me, what did you do?”

That didn’t say much for the powers of materia. The corruption inside of him was incurable by any standard, but the cut on his shoulder wasn’t the problem. Looking at him now, tall, proud, and regal, she felt pity for what the taint would do to him. The corruption was always awful but this poor man had no idea how terrible his destruction would be. Knowing he was doomed, she decided to be honest with him. Life had dealt him a bad enough hand without her adding to it.

“I didn’t say materia.” She was almost certain this was a terrible idea, but then so was facing the Arishok in single combat and that had worked out pretty well.

He was watching her all the closer now, his eyes narrowed, “If not materia, then what? What will it take for you to heal me completely?”

Hawke shook her head, “I can’t heal it. I’m sorry, I wish I could.”

He scowled and stepped closer to her, “What will it take to buy your aid then? How much money will it take to convince you?”

“I’m not trying to bribe you, I simply can’t. It’s not something I can do.” 

He shook his head and scowled, “You lie! You halted the degradation once; you could easily do so again. Or do you simply enjoy holding power over the lives of others?”

Hawke’s pity for the man was withering like a forgotten soufflé. “Why, do you?” She asked, crossing her arms in annoyance.

“The only power I want is over my own life. Yet fate has given that power to you.” He looked down at her bitterly, “You do not even know what you doom me to with your callous indifference.”

“I’ve already lost my brother to the corruption, don’t you dare accuse me of not caring.” No amount of caring had saved Carver; her inability to let go had just made his death slower. _I am dead_ , he had said years later, _it’s just taking it’s time_. This red headed brat should be grateful there were no Grey Wardens to work him to death in the meantime.

Had she been slightly less angry she might have noticed how taken aback Genesis looked. Perhaps not quite repentant but he seemed to be re-evaluating his approach.

“Your brother?”

“It’s none of your business. I’d rather not have his name slandered by someone who’s never so much as met him.” she might never have actually gotten along with Carver but he was family and that was all that mattered. 

“Was he one of Shinra’s experiments?”

Hawke sighed; she really didn’t want to have this conversation. Especially since according to Aerith there were no Blights in this land, the lucky bastards. But then, without the Blight how did Genesis get corrupted…?

“Is that what happened to you?”

He looked down, his face twisted with resentment. Then he turned away and laughed bitterly. “Of course it is. That is all SOLDIER is, you know. Lab rats for Shinra to play with and then proudly display once they’ve been properly broken.” He spread his arms and gestured grandly “I am nothing more than Shinra’s pet monster. Kept on a leash for when they might have need of me.”

His anger and bitterness was palpable.

She didn’t know if she could trust what Genesis said, but if Shinra truly was responsible for infecting him with the Blight then his anger and desperation were easily justified. Hawke was reminded of Fenris and the experiments he had suffered under Danarius, except even the Magisters knew better than to play with the corruption of the blight. 

Genesis lifted his head. He looked around as though only just seeing his surroundings.

“This is a dream,” he said finally. He turned back to face her, his coat whipping around him.

“Yes, we’re in the Fade.” How had he not noticed?

He sighed and shook his head. “I will not give up until I find the real Hawke. No matter what you claim, she stalled the degradation. If anyone can stop it, it will be her.”

“I am the real Hawke,” she said, feeling a little puzzled. “Do you think I’m a spirit?”

“You are but a dream,” he said dismissively.

Oh. He didn’t realise. He didn’t know what the Fade was; he must think this was all just his imagination. Hawke sighed; did nobody on Gaia understand any of this?

“I can’t heal you Genesis. Not here, not in the real world. There is nothing I can do.”

She felt a tug on her mind, she was waking up. The fade swirled around her, dissipating into the darkness of closed eyes.  

 


	6. Yesterday's Mistakes

Genesis sliced viciously through the last monster.

With the last of the enemies slain, the simulation dissipated, leaving the commander alone in the virtual reality training room. He had spent the better part of an hour carving through endless simulated creatures, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand. He had taken to the training room in a bid for distraction. His mind insisted on dwelling on the strange dream he’d had the night before.

Normally Genesis would have gladly analysed his dreams, contemplating the meaning behind the images his subconscious showed him. This was different. Not only was the dream itself overly depressing but it felt... unusually vivid. He could recall with almost perfect clarity the words he had exchanged with dream-Hawke. That in itself was part of the problem, he had no desire to remember what was said, the words of his only hope for life telling him he was doomed.

_I can’t heal you Genesis_.

It was just a dream. He wouldn’t let something so inconsequential bother him. As much as he sought meaning in his life, he knew that not everything held significance. That and the other things dream-Hawke had said made no sense. Healing without materia? Impossible. And what in Gaia was the ‘Fade’? It was obviously nonsense.

He swept out of the training room and started making his way towards Sephiroth’s office. It had become custom for himself, Angeal, and Sephiroth to meet around this time for a few drinks. It was one of the few quiet moments that their busy schedules allowed for and a valued escape from the rank and file. Angeal wouldn’t be there this week; he was off training his excitable apprentice. How the man could weather his student’s boundless energy Genesis would never understand.

However, that left only Genesis and Sephiroth. The once steadfast friendship between the two men was a mere shadow of what it used to be. After the incident in the training room that left Genesis with an unhealable wound, his resentment towards Sephiroth had grown exponentially. Where once they had been friendly rivalry there was open bitterness. The revelations about his own origin, that he was merely a failed prototype to Sephiroth, Shinra’s perfect SOLDIER, had left Genesis barely able to talk to the man. Sephiroth’s ignorance as to his sudden vitriol had only antagonized him all the more.

After his wound was healed, however, he saw things differently. His degradation stalled, some of the damage even reversed a little, Genesis realised that it wasn’t just his body that was being affected. While his anger towards Shinra hadn’t abated (and never would), all the blame he had heaped upon Sephiroth didn’t make as much sense to him as it once did. His resentment for the man’s perfection remained, but given that Genesis had been on the verge of deserting Shinra, his attempts at alienating Sephiroth struck him as a tactical error at best. On some level Genesis knew that his planned abandonment of Sephiroth had been an attack on the man. Tarnishing his perfection by taking away what he knew was the General’s only real family.

He would never admit it, but Genesis was ashamed. For someone who dreamed of being a renowned Hero, such a petty and damaging attack on an old friend was beneath him. Yet, at the time it had felt perfectly reasonable, hurting Sephiroth was merely an extension of his revenge on Shinra. Even if it left the only person who could defeat him with every reason to do so. Even if it meant attacking someone who, for all his perfection, was far more a helpless puppet of Shinra than Genesis had ever been.

Then Hawke had spontaneously healed him and everything looked rather different. That his mind had been so drastically altered by the degradation was far more terrifying than the thought of his body rotting. Yes, he was a warrior and a fearsome one at that, but his true strength was his intellect. His cunning mind that could manipulate the most complex materia, see the underlying poetry of life, and use the most sophisticated tactics to outmanoeuvre any opponent. And now he could no longer rely on it. He wasn’t accustomed to self-doubt. It left him feeling vulnerable.

He had to find Hawke. As soon as possible.

_There is nothing I can do_.

Strange dreams be damned. He would not allow this corruption to take him. There was no alternative. He would find Hawke and she would heal him.

 

* * *

 

Sephiroth looked up as Genesis sauntered into his office, with nary so much as a by-your-leave.

It was Genesis’ custom and he had grown used to it. It had taken years for him to overlook the commander’s breaks in regulation, but some part of him appreciated that Genesis treated him as an equal. Nobody else did, it was nice to step down from the pedestal the world had put him on. Genesis was an impeccable SOLDIER in every other sense so the lack of proper respect was humoured, so long as it wasn’t in public.

The commander looked troubled. Not unusual for Genesis, all year something seemed to have been bothering him, he had steadily grown more antagonistic and distant. Then just before the Wutai war started up again he had abruptly announced that his shoulder had recovered (with no further explanation added) and the commander had become more reasonable. He still threw plenty of jabs and veiled insults at Sephiroth but they had lost the bitterness they once had. Sephiroth would never consider social interaction his area of expertise but even he could tell that Genesis had been severely troubled by something. The injury he had sustained didn’t seem to justify it. Injuries happened, it was part of being a soldier, enhanced or not. It wasn’t even the first time one of them had been hurt while training.

Regardless, Genesis was healed and it seemed they were friends again. He was glad, Genesis’ theatrics could be weathered when he was in a good mood, but when he was Displeased, or Gaia forbid openly hostile, dealing with him became a trial of endurance.

Now almost a month after the war had been resolved, he looked agitated again. Genesis paced in front of the window, his eyes occasionally narrowing as he scrutinized the carpet. Sephiroth was concerned. He hoped he wasn’t suffering any stubbornly non-healing wounds again, but he knew better than to ask. Genesis wouldn’t tell him even if he was, and he’d only be rewarded with a recital.

Eventually Genesis sighed and sat on one of the couches. Sephiroth remained sitting at his desk. Their cordial but mundane conversation had petered out. Sephiroth wasn’t really one for small talk.

“Have you ever heard of magic independent of materia?” Genesis asked, seemingly apropos of nothing. The question was characteristically unexpected.

The subject matter wasn’t something he had ever considered. Though he wielded magic whenever the situation called for it, he relied upon his swordsmanship. Genesis however was the most powerful magic user in all of SOLDIER and the unquestioned expert on materia.

“Legends claim that the Cetra were capable of such things.” How much of that was fanciful thinking or artistic licence Sephiroth couldn’t say. Nothing about the Cetra was known for certain. “If you’re asking if I’ve ever encountered it then no, I haven’t. I doubt it’s truly possible. Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” said Genesis before contradicting himself, “Given that materia is but crystalized mako, and SOLDIERs are infused with mako, perhaps we might have underestimated ourselves.”

“I don’t think you’ve ever underestimated yourself Genesis,” he said with a smirk.

“Perhaps not, but you certainly have,” said Genesis, waving his hand dismissively.

“I’ll take your word for it.” Sephiroth refrained from shaking his head. Genesis’ competitiveness was one of the most constant factors of his life. “What brought this on?” he asked curiously. “Getting bored with your materia? Or are you simply looking for a new challenge?”

The concept sounded dubious to him but it would certainly be an advantage on the battlefield. Genesis had a veritable treasure trove of materia and it was his greatest strength, but casting without the restrictions that came with the baubles would make him all the more formidable. If anyone was going to perform magic independently it would be Genesis, if only out of sheer determination.

“I was merely considering the possibilities. I don’t care for the world’s limitations.”

“So you think you might be a Cetra?” Sephiroth asked, his amusement clear in his voice.

“Of course not. But, perhaps they knew something the rest of us didn’t.” Genesis said in a contemplative tone.

“Hm. If you should uncover any of this lost wisdom, don’t hesitate to share it with us,” said Sephiroth. He doubted anything would come of it, but it was an interesting thought nonetheless.

The conversation turned to the drudgery of work. They spoke of the other SOLDIERs, Angeal, and his student who would probably be promoted to First Class soon. Genesis had a meeting to attend and eventually left.

Alone in his office, Sephiroth thought over what had been said. The high concentration of mako in a SOLDIER’s blood stream was what made casting materia so much easier for them but to circumvent materia entirely seemed far-fetched. The association with the Cetra, now that he thought about, wasn’t something they should really be discussing. Nobody outside of Shinra’s Science Department, not even the General himself, knew what exactly made a SOLDIER. The mako was no secret; you could see it glowing in their eyes, but anything else involved was a highly guarded company secret. As a SOLDIER there were some questions you simply didn’t ask, that included anything pertaining to the workings of their enhancements.

Sephiroth dismissed the line of thought. There was no benefit to dwelling on it.

 

* * *

 

_“Do you think we could… take a break? I feel… wrong," Carver said weakly. It was hard to tell in the dimly lit caverns of the Deep roads but he was pale and sweating._

_“Heh, I’ll wager it was those deep mushrooms we found,” said Varric, keeping a vigilante eye on the off shooting tunnels._

_“No, it’s…” the younger Hawke’s voice faded away._

_“Carver!” exclaimed Hawke, running back to him as he collapsed. She looked down at her brother, finally seeing the discoloured veins bulging under his watery complexion._

_“It’s the blight,” Anders said quietly, “I can sense it.”_

_“No… I won’t let it take you!” Hawke shook her head as she spoke, desperation colouring her voice. “There must be something-”_

_“I’m not going to make it. Not to the surface, not anywhere. I can feel it… it’s getting worse.” His voice broke. His bloodshot eyes looked up at Hawke. She saw the words he couldn’t say, ‘I don’t know what to do, sister,’ his gaze pleaded, ‘save me, please, save me…’_

_Anders spoke “I think there are Grey Wardens down here, we could bring Carver to them…”_

_“And what? Become a Grey Warden?” mumbled Carver. Hawke looked up with hope in her eyes._

_“Is becoming a Warden a cure?” she asked._

_“I suppose it is,” Anders said hesitantly, “But it’s not without a price, one not everyone is willing to pay. And it’s irreversible. It also means you will probably never see your brother again.” he looked apologetic, but he continued, “he might survive the blight, but at the cost of becoming a Warden. It’s not an easy life…”_

_A few hours later Carver could barely walk; he was slung over Hawke’s shoulder and fading in and out of consciousness. They found the Grey Wardens and asked for their aid._

_“We do not recruit Grey Wardens out of pity. It is not a kindness.”_

_“You think it’s kinder to let Carver die of Blight?!” Hawke asked. She could feel his fever as she held him up, his tunic soaked with sweat._

_“Sometimes it is, yes. This may be as much a death sentence as the sickness. If the boy comes, he comes now; you will not see him again. Being a Warden is not a cure, it is a calling.”_

_“Are you sure about this?” Carver asked, his glazed eyes searching for his sister’s face. Hawke looked at her little brother, knowing it would be the last time._

_“If this is the only way you can live, then yes,” she said. “This is how it has to be now._ ”

 

* * *

 

Hawke sat on the edge of her bed. She hadn’t thought about Carver’s recruitment into the Wardens in years.Talking with Genesis in the Fade had stirred up a host of old regrets, none of which she wished to relive.

She never did see Carver again. It had been almost a year before she even knew if he survived the joining. A letter finally came, signed Warden Carver Hawke. She would receive three more over the years, each more forlorn than the one before. He had survived the joining. His brashness and naivety had not.

She hoped he was still alive somewhere, even if Warden’s were only alive on a technicality. She wished… well. It didn’t matter. Carver’s fate was sealed, now she had her own to worry about.

Going about her usual routine, Hawke soon found herself entering the broken little church with Aerith next to her. She nodded at today’s suit wearing spy; he was pale and expressionless with tied back black hair. He nodded back at her, as they all did now. After she had more or less befriended Reno the daily spectators had stopped trying to hide and acknowledged her when she spotted them. They seemed to accept her part in this little arrangement and she didn’t begrudge them theirs.

She had long since run out of relevant books to study as well as healing techniques to teach Aerith. The girl had completely outstripped her with healing proficiency and Hawke couldn’t have been prouder. Aerith would have to rely on her own intuition for further improvement but now that she had all the basics thoroughly memorized she would continue to progress even without guidance.

For the moment it meant that Aerith would finally be learning something different. Shield spells were the first topic they would be covering and they were now on the third day of study. Hawke was glad to finally be focusing on something that she understood thoroughly and Aerith was feeling the exact opposite. Defensive spells were clearly not the cetra’s strong point. They hadn’t been Hawke’s either but after a few years of perfecting the art they came easily enough. The newly found discord was poking holes in Hawke’s teaching methods.

“It’s not working! I try to shape the mana but it just dissipates,” Aerith said, sounding frustrated.

“You’re not trying to bludgeon it into submission.” Sheer insistence would not make the mana co-operate, but an irritated Aerith had trouble grasping that. Hawke suspected the next few months of training would not be joy filled. As Aerith wasn’t eager to learn to fight and Hawke was even more hesitant to teach her, they would simply have to work with barriers. Since the girl couldn’t remain defenceless, it was a necessary evil.

“I’m not bludgeoning it. I’m… asking it nicely.” Aerith stretched out her hand and attempted to build another shield. “Oh planet, I’ve lost it again.” She stamped her foot. “Maybe if…” Aerith looked at Hawke’s staff, leaning against the nearest pew. Then she huffed and looked away, not bothering to ask her question.

Hawke knew they would have to find Aerith a staff soon. It hadn’t been necessary for healing; only battlefield healers really needed them as they improved range. Defensive spells however were undeniably easier with a staff. Aerith had looked a little longingly at Hawke’s weapon a few times but Hawke had always said no. The staff of the Champion would be far more than the teenager could handle on her own. Even Hawke hadn’t been able to use it for years; it was a serious weapon and more dangerous to the wielder than anyone else if you didn’t know exactly what you were doing. Aerith would only end up hurting herself. 

This called for a compromise.

“Come here.” Hawke stood, picking up her staff and holding the lyrium infused weapon lightly to the side. Aerith sulked her way towards Hawke.

“It just… it doesn’t feel right,” she sighed.

“We might be able to fix that.”

She gestured for Aerith to stand facing her. She held the staff in front of her with both hands, the tip of the blade on the floorboards. The swirling red orb on the other end was pointed straight up towards the roof.

“Hold the staff, Aerith, Between my hands.” The teenager slowly reached out, a look of excitement in her eyes. Hawke rearranged her own hands overtop Aerith’s, maintaining a sturdy grip on the weapon.

“Don’t try to cast anything,” she instructed, “just feel…” Slowly she started building up a shield, letting the magic flow over her hands and into the staff. She steadily knit the mana together in a protective weave and hoped Aerith could feel what she was doing.

“Oh,” Aerith tilted her head in concentration “So that’s how you do it. It feels… complicated.”

Smiling Hawke lifted the staff, letting the built up mana spill out around them. A shimmering shield surrounded the two mages. Pulling a hand from the staff Aerith turned and gazed at the barrier in wonder.

“It’s so pretty,” she murmured, poking it experimentally. Hawke shook her head fondly. Last week Aerith had been healing broken bones, now she was gazing in awe at the most basic of shield spells. It was endearing really.

Suddenly there was a deafening crash.

Both women jumped as debris rained down from the roof. A heavy body crashed against the shield and bounced off, landing with a thump amidst the flowers.

As the last of the broken roofing materials settled the shield flickered out of existence.

Aerith was frozen with shocked. Hawke snorted and laughed. Of course half the roof caved in the second she encased them in a shield. As always her timing was excellent and her luck abysmal.

But now they had the aftermath to deal with. The shield had saved them, but had it just killed someone else? The unidentified body hadn’t moved.

“Oh no!” Aerith noticed the inert intruder and ran to check on them. Hawke could already see blood staining the flowers.

Their visitor was a tall unconscious male, probably in his late teens. He was muscular, with black hair and pauldrons on his shoulders and a broadsword on his back. Aerith didn’t appear to have noticed any of that and was entirely focused on the rusted metal pipe piercing his abdomen.

“Alright, you know what to do.” They could get back to shields some other day. If that logo on his belt was what Hawke thought it might be than helping him was in everyone’s best interests.

That and she really didn’t feel like hiding a body today.

Aerith looked up at her and nodded, then focused on the boy again. Hawke could feel mana shifting as Aerith got ready to cast.

“If you could pull out the pipe when I say, then I’ll heal him.”

“Temember to check for poisons, the pipe looks filthy.” Kneeling next to him, Hawke quickly removed the rusty metal on Aerith’s signal and watched as a healing green glow flowed about the wound. It looked like it wasn’t such a major injury after all, though abdominal wounds could turn deadly very easily, this one hadn’t hit any vital organs. Aerith was patching him back together with grand efficiency. She finished with the bump on his head.

The boy stirred. He mumbled something before slowly opening his eyes. His eyes glowed blue. He blinked a few times before registering Aerith’s smiling face.

“Heaven?” he asked up at her.

Aerith giggled. Hawke groaned.


	7. Today's Consequences

“Heaven?” The boy asked, looking up into the face of a giggling Aerith.

Hawke rolled her eyes and started clearing some of the ceiling rubble. Their intruder was lying where he fell in the flowerbed.

“Not quite,” said Aerith, “Just a church in the slums. You fell from the sky.” she looked up through the new gaping hole in the ceiling, the sunlight streaming down through the dusty air around them.

“So you saved me, huh?” he asked, grinning up at her. Apparently he had noticed the bloodied tear in his uniform, he didn’t seem particularly bothered.

“Not really. Just a little materia.” she bit her lip. She wasn’t much of a liar but he was too distracted by how cute she looked to notice. “The flowers cushioned your fall. I’m Aerith by the way.” she half turned, her skirt swaying softly with the motion. He leaned right back before jumping onto his feet in one smooth motion.

“Thank you so much, Aerith.” He shot her a dazzling smile, “I’m Zack.” Aerith blushed.

Hawke wondered if she’d be within her rights to start threatening him yet.

“I have to repay you somehow.” he continued with a contemplative tone.

“Don’t worry about it.” Aerith said, shaking her head. “

No, no… Hmmm, aha!” he snapped his fingers “How about one date?”

Hawke snorted. “Is that all?” she said, “I think you’re being short changed there, Aerith.”

They both turned to her, noticing (or remembering) they had an audience. Hawke smirked; hormone ridden teenagers were the same no matter what world you were in.

“Oh, uh, hi there.” Zack said awkwardly. “Sorry about the roof.”

“It’s no big deal. It was rotten anyway.” said Aerith. Hawke looked down at some of the solid wooden planks now decorating the floor. If that was rotten then she was a Qunari.

“Hey! Don’t step on the flowers!” Aerith said sharply, her voice as forceful as Hawke had ever heard it. Zack stood with one foot poised above the flower bed, unsure as to where he should put it.

“I, um, sorry?” he offered.

“Usually people are more careful with flowers.” she said, the reproach clear in her tone.

The two chatted on, Hawke barely paying attention. Zack was suggesting something about selling the flowers when a ringing noise pierced the air. Apparently it was coming from Zack’s pocket. He pulled out a phone (and Hawke was overly pleased with herself for identifying it as such).

“Hi Angeal! …yeah I’m fine.” he spoke into the device, turning to face the wall. “…hey, I thought it’d be strong enough! How was I supposed to know the metal was rusted through... okay yeah it had a couple of holes in it-” he rolled his eyes and winked at Aerith before focusing on the phone again “…Oh. Alright, yeah I’ll be right there.” he snapped the phone shut.

“Duty calls!” he said, sending them a mock salute. “See ya Aerith! And you too, uh…”

“Hawke, her name is Hawke.” Aerith said.

“Hawke, huh? Well, see you later!” He said while walking for the door.

He pushed it open and Hawke heard a faint “Oh, hi Tseng!”

She decided to live up to her reputation as the nosiest of Champions. She opened the door in time to see Zack walking away with his hands in his pockets, whistling happily. To her right the black haired spy was standing.

“Hawke.” he nodded.

“Suit.” she nodded back.

His expression remained blank. He was putting Reno’s poker face to shame, she thought.

He pushed open the door slightly and looked in to see Aerith, standing idly by the flowers and humming to herself. He nodded again and left.

 

* * *

 

 

“Hawke, when you talk about spirits do you mean Summons?” Aerith asked.

They were both lying down on the floor of the church. After cleaning up all the mess from the cave in, which had taken far longer than either had imagined, they hadn’t been in any mood to practise Aerith’s magic and had deposited themselves on the newly swept floor. Aerith’s question seemed rather random but the way she said it gave Hawke the impression that she’d been thinking it over for a while.

“That depends,” she said, “what exactly do you mean by Summons?”

“You know, Summon materia. It lets you call a spirit from another dimension that fights for you.” Aerith said, as though it were common knowledge. Maybe it was.

“Why?” Hawke asked with her eyes narrowed.

“I think it’s if you need a hand, they’ll finish off an enemy for you.”

“No, I mean why do they fight for you?”

“Because you asked them to.” Aerith tilted her head in confusion.

“What do they get in return? Surely they don’t just help you out of the kindness of their hearts.” Hawke said sceptically. It was the first she had heard of these ‘Summons’ and it was setting off all sorts of alarms in her head.

“Why wouldn’t they? Maybe they’re just friendly?” Hawke gawked at the girl. She knew she was naïve but _really_?

“Have you been paying any attention at all, Aerith? The spirits of the fade crave a foothold in our world, if you make a deal with one, you will be that foothold. They’ll gladly take the world off our hands, if only given the chance.”

Aerith seemed to muse over that.

“I had always thought that whoever has the materia gets to command whatever’s inside it. That’s what people say anyway.”

Hawke narrowed her eyes as she thought about that. It didn’t sound right at all, but things were very different here. With no mages, perhaps the spirits were just that cooperative? Or maybe they were bound and had no choice in the matter? It sounded far too convenient either way. She couldn’t see them being subservient without vast recompense.

“Where I come from no spirit lends its aid without making a bargain first.” Hawke said slowly “And they’re all cunning salesmen. No matter what deal is made they always come out on top. They take more than you intend to give, every time. I don’t know if these ‘Summons’ are the same, but it doesn’t sound right.” she sighed. It went against everything she knew and all the hard learned lessons life had taught her. “I would strongly advice against having anything to do with them, Aerith. The risk is… well. It’s just not worth it.”

Aerith was looking at her funny. She did that sometimes, contemplating Hawke as though she was a puzzle and Aerith was trying to fit together all the pieces. She wondered how long it would take the girl to realise that the fragments didn’t actually fit together anymore, they were just the only pieces she had managed to hold onto.

“What happened, Hawke?” Aerith finally asked. “What did the demons do to you?”

Hawke leaned back against the floorboards, looking at the hole in the ceiling. For all her moments of naivety, Aerith could be far too perceptive sometimes.

“They took a very dear friend, Aerith. They turned him into something awful. In the end…” Hawke took a deep breathe. “In the end, I had to kill him.”

“I’m so sorry.” Aerith whispered.

“Me too.” Hawke closed her eyes. “Me too, Aerith.”

It was too much. Anders… his betrayal, the slaughter that followed, she didn’t want to get sucked into the vortex of pain surrounding it all.

She turned her head. She had other memories, she would focus on those. The bad ending couldn’t erase the happy times that came before. If she had to pretend she didn’t about know the tragedies that followed then she would pretend with the best of them.

“It wasn’t always like that though. We had such crazy adventures together.” Hawke said, smiling softly. “We killed more demons than I count.”

“Tell me about your adventures.” Aerith smiled up at her, rolling onto her stomach to face Hawke, her head resting on her hands.

“Varric was always the storyteller, though I guess I could give it a try.” There were so many stories to choose from. She mused over the episodes of madness her friends had followed her into over the years. Oh! She knew which story to tell Aerith, it had been one of Varric’s favourites to recite to the drunken crowds down at the Hanged Man. Secretly it was one of her favourites too, though she never told him that.

“Kirkwall has a long and troubled history,” she began, putting on her best storytelling voice. Aerith grinned.

“Endless terrible things have happened there over the centuries. Lunatic blood mages, Slave trading Magisters, even the Qunari ruled the city at one point.” Aerith probably had no idea what half of those things were but that was just how the story went.

“Because of the countless unspeakable horrors going back generations, there are all sorts of strange and dangerous things left over in the depths of the city. With the Fade so very thin, if you poke around in the wrong corner you never know what you’ll find. You know, ‘stare into the void and find it staring back’, that sort of thing.”

“Now, a few years ago, I found a book. Hidden in some abandoned hovel, it was bound with black leather and stank of blood. It had a dangerous, evil feel to it. I picked it up, I’m very thorough in my raiding you see, and it felt… hungry.”

“Hungry?” Aerith looked somewhere between baffled and scared.

“Hungry, like it would consume us all the second we turned our backs.” Hawke was starting to see why Varric enjoyed this so much. “I didn’t like it and promptly destroyed it.”

“Oh.” Now Aerith just looked disappointed.

“There’s more, Aerith. This isn’t just the story of that book I destroyed that one time.” Hawke said with a chuckle.

“A year or so later I stumbled across another book. This one didn’t just smell of blood, it was dripping out of the pages. It felt ravenous. I destroyed it, just like I did the previous one. You see, there had long been rumours in the city of a great evil lurking somewhere, beneath the streets and courtyards. Mages would wake up screaming and refuse to speak of what they had seen. There were whispers of the Forgotten Ones, demons so strong and wicked even the ancient Magisters bowed before them in fear and reverence.”

“Over the years I found five of these tomes, each more blood soaked and hungry than the one before. I didn’t open any of them, but destroyed them immediately. The last book, the fifth, we found in a huge cavern. It was underneath the city sewers, a massive stone chamber with rows of rough-hewn columns holding up the roof, burning red torches in brackets on the walls provided the only light. At the far end of the echoing chamber was a stone altar. It was covered in black candle stumps, with the rotting carcass of some unknown creature bound to it, the remnant of an ancient sacrifice. In the middle of it all, sat the book.” She remembered it so clearly, the flickering lights, the eerie smoke, Fenris’ swearing and Merrill’s fascination. Ander’s had scowled and Varric asked why they never went anywhere sunny.

“The evil sensation was so strong there; you could almost see the mana surrounding it. The rotten yet starving tendrils of some forbidden and long forgotten magic were reaching out from the altar for anything to corrupt and consume.” Hawke couldn’t deny she was having way too much fun with this. Aerith hadn’t blinked in a while.

“Not wanting to get too close to any of it, I summoned up a firestorm. Just large enough to encase the altar and turn it all into ash. The fire came down but as the book caught fire a piercing scream went up. The fire grew, turning into a swirling maelstrom no longer in my control. Demons sprung up from the ground all around the room. Dozens of Shades and rage demons surrounded us; we all drew our weapons and stood back to back, ready for a fight. Out of the burning altar stepped a nearly naked woman, tall and commanding with icy blue skin and horns curling back from her head. It was a desire demon, and easily the strongest I’ve ever seen.”

“She was furious. Looking down upon us and shrieking with outrage, she summoned a tall silver spear and twirled it threateningly while circling us. Her demon pets roared and howled.” Hawke grinned as she remembered the deafening cacophony.

“Normally, this is the part where a demon would tempt you; try to make you an offer in return for your soul. She was so angry though she didn’t even bother. Xebenkeck the Undying, she called herself. She was one of the ancient and greatest of demons, one of the four Forgotten Ones, so terrible and perverse that all the other demons tremble before them. And I had just destroyed her gates to the mortal realm.”

Hawke told Aerith of the fight, long and arduous as it had been. Aerith, knowing nothing of combat, was a little bewildered. Hawke was so enthusiastic, pouring so much energy into her descriptions of how Fenris sliced that demon’s head right off and how Anders froze them in place for Varric to smash with his Crossbow bolts that Aerith got swept up in it all.

“Then, just as one of my lightning storms fizzled out, the Xebenkeck screamed and dropped her spear. The last of her strength sapped, she faded away. The rest of her lackeys had already been defeated and she was sucked back into the fade. As she disappeared she left an echoing whisper: ‘ _Next time Hawke, next time you will not be so lucky…_ ’ ” she smiled broadly at Aerith’s captivated expression. It had been a good battle, one she was proud of. It was one of the hardest fights they had every gotten themselves into but it was also amoung the least complicated. There were no moral quandaries here, just an evil demon in need of a good killing. A perfect adventure really. She was glad that Aerith was suitably impressed with the exploits of her and friends.

“So she just went back to the fade? But you killed her!” Aerith asked in indignation. A good story was supposed to end with the bad guys thoroughly defeated, unfortunately demons weren’t narratively cooperative.

“She isn’t called Xebenkeck _the Undying_ for nothing you know, but it doesn’t matter. You can’t technically kill any of the demons or spirits. All you can really do is temporarily inconvenience them. When they’re killed out here they return to the fade, but it takes them a while to collect themselves."

“What if you kill them in the fade?” Aerith asked curiously.

“That scatters them there; it takes them much longer to pull themselves back together then. They are still immortal at the end of the day. I haven’t seen old Xebenkecky since then though, so maybe we did some lasting damage.”

Aerith chuckled. “Your friends sound very dangerous Hawke. Very strange too.”

“Well you know, birds of a feather and all that.” Hawke said with a smile. “Normal is overrated.”

Aerith smiled.

 

* * *

 

 

She was back in the Fade.

Hawke crossed the field of carnage approaching Genesis’ grove of bizarre trees. She didn’t know why she was here; it wasn’t as though she wanted to talk to him.

But really, what else was she going to do? She may as well be arguing with Mr Poetry.

She climbed the little hillock overlooking the curving trees. Genesis was sitting on the same outcropping as before, but he seemed to be just enjoying the scenery this time. His eyes briefly turned to her before reverting back to the trees. The soft hum of cicadas could be heard buzzing in the grove.

“You’re not in Sector 7.” He said abruptly.

“No, I’m not.” she said slowly. His statement was accurate though she didn’t see what it had to do with anything.

“Unless, of course, you are far better at hiding than I anticipated.” he continued with narrowed eyes, “Though why would you have reason to hide? Where are you Hawke? Why can’t I find you?”

“Currently, I’m in the Fade. That’s all that matters.”

“I don’t mean here, this is but a dream.”

“Which is, in fact, what I just said.” If he wanted something he was going to have to ask for it here. The situation between Shinra and Aerith was already complicated enough, she wasn’t about to make it more so by giving out her address.

She plucked a few leaves off a nearby branch. Then she sat, leaning against the base of the nearest tree. Directly in front of her she could see the trunk curve overhead and back down again, meeting the ground a few meters away from her.

“What is it with these trees? I’ve never seen anything grow like that before.”

“They are Banora White trees. They are native to my home town.” he said with some bitterness. He stood and walked under the canopy the row of curving trees made.

“I climbed these trees as a child. They would produce the most delicious apples.” He voice turned wistful as he looked up at them.

“Really?” Hawke looked him over, noting his dignified posture and tailored leather duster. “I can see it now: you a scruffy barefoot child, climbing trees in search of apples. Your bright red hair stuck with twigs and leaves.”

“Hardly.” he scoffed, “My parents wouldn’t have stood for it. The son of the mayor couldn’t be seen running about with grubby hands and torn clothes.” He smiled as he continued, “I had to resort to all sorts of trickery to get away with it.”

Hawke smiled. She had an appreciation for the crafty sort. She thought back to her own childhood.

“The only fruit we had as children grew on Barlin’s farm. The paranoid old coot kept setting traps because he thought bears were eating his fruit. Never did stop us. I can’t fault him for trying though.”

“You braved bear traps for stolen fruit?”

“No, I learned how to disarm bear traps for stolen fruit.” she said. He chuckled lightly and shook his head. He looked up at the swirling green sky then and sighed softly.

“I had a friend, a boy I grew up with who would steal from the other trees.” he said, a small smile on his face. “He never took from those on our land though. He said his honour wouldn’t permit it.”

Hawke smirked.

“My honour is much more flexible. Useful too, if it wasn’t for all that practise disarming traps as a child I doubt I’d be here today.”

“Oh? You’ve made a career stealing fruit then?” he asked in a mocking tone.

“It’s more of a hobby really.” she said lightly. “I wonder what happened to old Barlin. I hope the Blight didn’t get him.”

“The Blight?” he raised an eyebrow.

She sighed, so much for happy recollections.

“A conversation for another day perhaps.” she said with a grim smile.


	8. A Delightful Reunion

“I really don’t feel like cards this week, Reno.” Hawke said, slouching on her bar stool.

“Fine. Been a long week anyway.” he said, resting his head on the grimy bar and staring through his half empty beer bottle.

They were both at the Fat Chocobo for their weekly drinking and gambling session. Hawke wasn’t entirely sure when Reno had stopped being just a person she gets drunk with and steals from and morphed into an untrustworthy friend. Regardless, she found she genuinely enjoyed his company if only because he was unlikely to lecture her on proper flower care.

“How’s Zack doing?” he drawled.

“He keeps coming back and Aerith won’t stop giggling.” she said with a long suffering sigh.

“Heh, I bet.” Reno smirked at her, “He said you threatened him on the way out yesterday, something about kicking his ass if he doesn’t treat her right?”

“I told him if he breaks her heart I’ll break his legs. He seems to be behaving himself though. A shame really, looks like I won’t get to curb stomp him after all.” she said, shaking her head in mock disappointment. Hawke actually didn’t mind Zack, the young SOLDIER’s boundless energy could get a little grating but he was easy to like and hard to stay mad at.

“Hey uh, speaking of which…” Reno said quietly, sitting up now.

“Of what? Curb stomping?”

“Yeah, sure, you could say that.” he took a swig of his beer and leaned back.

“I hear the Labcoats at work are looking for somebody to curb stomp. Pretty sure they’ve got someone in special in mind.” his tone was light and breezy but his gaze was pointed.

Hawke paused, beer bottle half way to her mouth.

“Have they found them?” she asked cautiously.

“Nope. A couple days from now though they’re going to ask us to do a search. I hope for her sake she aint in Midgar. The Labcoats can be pretty brutal.”

Hawke didn’t know all the details concerning Shinra, Aerith, and the spies in between, but she certainly knew a warning when she heard one. The source might be dubious but she wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“You’re searching all of Midgar? That’d have to take, what, a couple of weeks at least?” she said, fishing for more information. He smirked at her.

“Less than a week Babe. We are the best you know.”

“Yeah, sure you are, Reno.” she rolled her eyes and started planning.

 

* * *

 

 

The next day Hawke declared that it was high time she and Aerith did some travelling.

Aerith was thrilled and Elmyra quite concerned. After Hawke quietly told her that she had received a tip off, Elmyra heartily agree with the suggestion.

Pouring over a world map, they argued over where exactly they should go. Elmyra suggested Kalm because it was small and quiet. Hawke objected on the grounds that in such a small town any newcomers would stick out like a sore thumb, and it was too close to Midgar anyway. She suggested Junon which Elmyra objected to because it was Shinra’s secondary headquarters. In the end Hawke’s arguments won out. Since they didn’t have enough funds for Fort Condor or anywhere off continent, Junon it was.

No stranger to shady customers and backroom deals, Hawke swiftly arranged for transport out of the city via quiet and unassuming means. The payment for such arrangements came chiefly from Hawke’s pockets. She had amassed a decent amount of money from the monsters she hunted in her spare time and what she had won off Reno. Little would be left after the trip but she could afford to be generous. Elmyra wouldn’t have been able to afford even half of the costs.

They were out of the city before sunset.

 

* * *

 

 

“Is there a problem, Fair?” Genesis asked, in a tone that implied he in no way cared.

He and Zack were in the virtual training room and were meant to be running a few practise missions. This was exactly the sort of situation Genesis went out of his way to avoid, but Angeal had cornered him and essentially coerced him into it. Usually he would have just refused and that would have been that, but Angeal had only asked him because he was taking the time to get a medical check-up. Something about a muscle strain that wasn’t healing correctly.

Genesis couldn’t say no to his friend under those circumstances.

And now he was stuck with Zack Fair for half the day. They had run through a practise mission in which Genesis threw fireballs at him while making him fight a horde of monsters. He had to concede that the boy was actually rather good; he would probably be promoted to 1st Class soon. However, Zack was clearly distracted by something and that irritated him. He didn’t particularly care what was wrong with the boy so long as he stopped fidgeting. When Genesis Rhapsodos threw fireballs at you, you damn well paid attention.

“It’s nothing sir.” Zack said, scratching the back of his neck. “My girlfriend’s just gone out of town and I didn’t even know-”

“Your personal problems are not my problems.” Genesis said in a bored tone. The simulation had ended and Zack was doing squats again. Was he incapable of standing still?

“I didn’t even get to say goodbye!” Zack exclaimed “She sent me one short voicemail. Sure, we haven’t been going out long but still-”

“Fair. I do not care.” he said, wishing he hadn’t asked. He had absolutely no interest in the troubles of a lovesick teenager.

Zack sighed.“I bet its Hawke’s fault.” he muttered to himself.

Genesis was suddenly paying very close attention.

“Hawke?” He asked, trying to sound as though it were a casual inquiry. “Tall, short black hair, plate armour on one shoulder?” No point in getting excited when it may not be the right Hawke.

“Yeah that’s the one! Why, is she a friend of yours?” Zack asked.

“Of a sort. Do you know where she is?” Zack stood, looking thoughtful.

“Aerith said they were going to Junon. No idea how long for.”

Genesis mentally took back every nasty thing he had ever said about the boy.

“Do you know where they were staying?”

“I don’t know, like I said it was a short message.” he rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly looking quite contrite, “And, uh, she told me not to tell anyone, but I’m sure she won’t mind that I told you. I hope.”

Genesis was already sorting through where in Junon Hawke could be staying. Unlike Midgar and its ramshackle slums, Junon was clean and organized with a comparatively small population. Someone visiting would probably stay at a hotel, and someone from the slums would probably stay at a cheap hotel.

The training session suddenly seemed so much longer. He finally knew where Hawke was. Healing was on the horizon for both Angeal and himself; he just had to reach out and take it.

 

* * *

 

 

Hawke was having a lovely day.

It wasn’t until they left Midgar that she realised just how sick of it she was. The roving musicians with whom they travelled (who were undoubtable the fine upstanding citizens their mismatched paperwork reported them to be) had dropped them off just outside the city limit.

It was almost noon and Aerith was exhausted, having barely slept on the way. Hawke however was wide awake. The sun was bright and crisp and such a relief after the perpetual darkness of the slums. Even Kirkwall had an upside, Midgar just felt like endless depression. But here there were wide open vistas and inevitable sunburn. Now if only there was something for her to slay it would be just about perfect. A dozen Qunari warriors wouldn’t go amiss.

Lack of threatening enemies aside, she needed to find them lodgings. A few minutes of wandering brought them to an utterly unremarkable looking inn. Herding Aerith inside (who was only awake on a technicality by this point), she secured them both rooms for a very good price. The poor desk clerk was clearly unused to people haggling with her and Hawke almost felt bad for so ruthless exploiting the fact. Her purse didn’t feel bad at all though.

They had gotten two joint bedrooms with their own lounge and tiny kitchen area. It was infinitely nicer that Hawke had expected, while it didn’t begin to rival her old Kirkwall estate it certainly put the Hanged Man’s rooms to shame. Aerith had no time for such observations and collapsed on her bed without even taking her shoes off. Clearly the girl wouldn’t be moving any time soon. Seizing the opportunity, Hawke freshened up then left to go exploring, safely locking the door behind her. She left Aerith a note just in case the girl woke up before she returned though she highly doubted that would be happening.

Returning the way they came, she sought out something she had noticed when they drove in. She walked about twenty minutes across the dusty plain until she saw the vultures wheeling overhead. They were clearly circling something that had just died or was on the verge of doing so. If Hawke knew anything about wild animals, which she most certainly did, then the spilt blood would be drawing quite a few other predators as well.

She wondered sometimes if this need for violence was entirely healthy. It probably wasn’t, but killing dangerous things was simply what she did. Without it she felt useless. Even tutoring Aerith and helping protect her just felt like so much busy work, mere stalling for her actual reason for getting up in the morning. Her mother had never approved of all the violence, but then she had loved the Estate the violence purchased so Hawke had considered that opinion invalid. It wasn’t like she was hurting innocents. She used her skills to help people, whether in freeing Kirkwall from a Qunari invasion or just killing the giant spiders that lurked in every available corner. Gaia suffered from neither scourges, but there were monsters galore and somebody had to kill them. That was a noble cause and she didn’t see anything wrong with enjoying it.

Whatever the vultures were circling came into view. It looked to be a group of… wild dogs? They looked like extremely large grey wolves with shaggy blue manes and vicious looking teeth. The locals called them Kalm Fangs. They were tearing into the remains of some creature far too mangled to be identified. There were well over a dozen of them, most looked gaunt and half starved. She doubted there would be any leftovers for the vultures.

Swinging her staff from her back and letting her mana flow freely in preparation, Hawke smiled.

It wasn’t long before they noticed her and decided she would be the second course. A few lightning strikes later and Hawke was laughing heartily as she swung her staff about.

The Fangs were vicious and hungry but not enough to make her desperate. If she hadn’t specialised in force spells she might have been at risk of being overwhelmed, as it was she could simply push them to wherever she wanted them. Several were dead already, either from direct lightning strikes or the business end of her staff. More Fangs had joined the fight to take their place, and Hawke’s smile was downright feral.

Oh, she had missed this. Nothing she had fought in the slums had brought this thrill, the sensation of fighting for your life. Just you, the enemy, and whatever scenery you choose to wield. There were no convenient boulders she could toss, but that just made it more interesting.

Spinning in place she summoned a shield behind her and threw a branching lightning attack at the Fangs before her, the dry and dusty air carrying the charge splendidly. She swung her stuff up, floating all her attackers several meters in the air and was preparing to smash them down with devastating force when her concentration was interrupted.

“Hawke!” A voice that was becoming far too familiar called out. The spell broken, the fangs fells harmlessly to the ground again. She growled and encased herself in a barrier.

“Dammit Genesis! These are my blue wolves, get your own!” She threw a gravity spell over the surrounding twenty meters of terrain and sent the red SOLDIER an unimpressed glare.

_Interrupting a fight mid-spell, now that’s just rude_ , she muttered to herself. She still had at least fifteen Fangs to kill and she was not going to be cheated out of it.

“I’m not here for a fight, Hawke. I need to speak with you.” He said irritably, dodging an attack from the closest Fang.

“As you can see, I’m otherwise engaged at the moment. Why don’t you call again later?” she said with mock politeness while spearing a Fang in the throat.

“This is important.” He said, looking disdainfully at the growling creatures. The Fangs decided he was the easier target and forced him to draw his sword.

He sighed as though it was all such a bother and jumped out of their range. He drew a glowing red ball from his coat and held it aloft.

“What are you-” Hawke said

“Shiva!” he cried out with a clear voice.

Expanding circles of glowing runes flashed around the materia he held. There was a burst of light and then a tall blue woman suddenly stood in front of him. Her light purple hair and scant clothing fluttered about her.

Hawke felt her stomach drop.

The blue woman cast an ice spell with a casual flick of her wrist and all the Fangs froze and smashed into smithereens.

“Now then,” Genesis began as the icy bits of Fang rained down on them.

“If you’re quite finished-”

“Hello Hawke.” Shiva interrupted him.

He faltered and looked at her with complete surprise on his face.

“Hello Xebenkeck.” Hawke said with a dangerous glint in her eye. “Missed me, have you?”

She laughed, the sound cold and venomous.

“I have, little Hawke. I have yearned to meet you again, that I might break your delicate mortal form and cherish the screams.” Hawke stood straight at her full height, her grip on her staff strong.

 

* * *

 

 

The summon spoke.

Genesis was desperately trying to make sense of the situation. Summons didn’t speak. Everybody knew that. He had used summon materia more times than he could count and never once had they spoken, or even acknowledged anyone outside of the target. They came, fought, and then disappeared again the minute they or the opponent was defeated. They would also disappear if your mana was too low to command them, but Genesis’ mana was so extensive that had never been a problem.

Yet Shiva was now threatening someone without his order, when his chosen enemy had already fallen. He was absolutely not going to lose Hawke, no matter how confused his Summon was.

“Shiva!” he stood between the two women, looking the Summon directly in the eye. “Stand down.” he commanded, still holding the materia he had called her from.

“No.” she said flippantly. A long silver spear materialised in her hand and horns appeared on her head, curling back from her face.

“I gave you an order.” he was arguing with his own Summon. This was not according to plan.

She laughed at him.

“I don’t care, little mortal. I am already here; it is too late to change your mind now.” she said, taunting him as she twirled her spear.

Hawke called out to him, “Genesis, you might want to draw your sword now.”

“You fight on my orders. You will not attack her.” he said, ignoring Hawke for the moment. “If you won’t submit to my command then I shall simply cease to summon you.”

She sneered at him. “This world has already trapped us within the Fade. We adhere to your precious baubles only for the brief glimpses into this realm.” she said bitterly, walking around them in a wide arc, eyeing both of the humans. “But summoners come and go so quickly. If you fight alongside her, Mortal, then you shall also die alongside her.”

“I will offer you one chance for mercy, Hawke.” she said the word mercy as though it were something terrible, “If you bow to me, little mage, then the pain shall be brief before I take your life and claim your form.” Hawke snorted.

“If not,” Shiva continued “then I shall spend years exacting vengeance for casting me out of Kirkwall.”

Genesis narrowed his eyes and placed his hand upon his sword. He didn’t know what she was talking about but obviously this was only going to end with a fight.

“Well now, let me see.” Hawke said in a contemplative tone, her brows drawn together. A lightning bolt suddenly struck Shiva in the chest and she stumbled back gasping.

“Does that answer your question?” Hawke said with a smile.

Shiva struck back almost immediately. Genesis blocked her spear with his sword and then dodged an ice attack. He dealt a flurry of strikes, most of which she parried or dodged.

Shiva suddenly cried out in pain as Hawke plunged a dagger in the Summon’s back. When had she gotten behind her?

Hawke immediately followed it up with a fire spell and then rolled away just as glistening shards of ice flew towards her. Genesis slashed at Shiva just as she sent a barrage of icy spears at him at point blank range. He braced for the attack only for them to bounce harmlessly off a magical barrier. He could just see Hawke out the corner of his eye pointing her staff.

He and Hawke fought back to back against the Summon, alternating between melee attacks and magical bombardment. It was clear he had severely underestimated the woman’s fighting prowess. She was no SOLDIER, yet she nimbly danced about the battle field while casting even faster than he could. She must have a horde of materia in that staff of hers, and probably all mastered as well given the exhaustive list of spells she was casting at incredible strengths. She cycled through all manner of attack types as though she had every force of nature at her fingertips. Some of the spells he couldn’t even identify.

Shiva fought them both head on, soaking up injury after injury. He had wielded this Summon countless times, and even fought accurate copies of her in the virtual training rooms, never had she been this resilient or her attacks so brutal. He had never seen her use a weapon either, though it was clear she knew what she was doing. What’s worse was that she was using his mana! He could feel it draining with every attack she threw, the endless reserves he had built up over the years now turned on him.

He was taking hits. The Summon had sent a barrage of frozen spears at him and while only one had gotten through it had slashed his side open. Still in the grasp of degradation he couldn’t heal it and Hawke was running off her feet, her energy starting to wane. The dreaded faintness of his body’s corruption started to seep into the edges of his vision. This fight had gone on long enough.

Hawke had reverted to lightning (she obviously had a natural affinity for it) and paired with his strongest fire attacks, Shiva was kept on the defensive. Hawke’s erratic long ranged fighting style worked well with his flame charged sword work.

“Genesis, get back!” she yelled.

Having seen the wild nature of her massive electrical attacks he instantly threw himself well out of range. A dark maelstrom of swirling purple energy sprung up where Shiva stood. She tried to evade it but the whirlwind sucked her in and kept her at its centre. Lightning came down upon the maelstrom giving the energy a huge electrical charge that swirled around its victim. Genesis threw a mastered fire attack into the vortex, and watched as the three combined attacks pulverised the Summon. They could hear Shiva screaming over the powerful roar of the whirlwind.

Finally the attack settled. Shiva was left, broken and mangled on the ground.

“You haven’t won, Hawke.” the Summon gasped.

“You will never be free of me. I will haunt your dreams until you give in. Whatever it takes…” she breathed in, a broken rasping sound, “I will break you.”

Her body faded away. It took all of his will not to collapse. Hawke sighed in exhaustion next to him. They were both filthy, covered in dirt, ice, and blood.

“What was that?” He demanded.

“That was a whirling abyss with a pinpoint lightning storm, plus whatever fire attack you threw in.” she said lightly, “Made for a rather nice combination I thought.”

“Why did she attack you?” he said, trying not to grit his teeth against the pain. “She broke orders, she spoke! She called you by name!” None of this made sense. This woman was not leaving his sight until he got all his answers.

“Hey, you summoned her, don’t come crying to me!” She shook her head and continued in a more subdued tone. “I’ll tell you what I can, but not here. Let me heal that, you’re going to pass out at this rate.”

She reached out and he felt a brief wave of regenerative power wash over him. The injury at his side knitted itself back together but he was still verging on unconsciousness. Supplying the mana for both himself and the opponent had utterly exhausted him.

“Come on; let’s get out of here before something else shows up.” Hawke said as she started walking, “Or you spontaneously summon something again.” she muttered darkly.

 

 


	9. Personal Demons

Hawke strode wearily along the empty street.

Genesis walked beside her and was equally tired though doing a better job of hiding it. He had said he wasn’t leaving until he had his answers and he looked to be adhering to that. They were a block away from the hotel; she could already make out the tacky neon sign glowing in the dim light of early evening. She wasn’t happy about bringing him to where she and Aerith were staying but she hadn’t expected to stay out this late and didn’t want to leave Aerith on her own for much longer.

At the very least she’d take a few precautions.

“Genesis.” she stopped and faced him.

“Perhaps we could delay the discussion until we’re actually inside.” he said, looking around them.

“You’re with Shinra.” The direct approach seemed the best for now.

“Very observant of you. What of it?” he said with a distinctly fake sound lightness in his tone.

“I’m not particularly fond of Shinra. In fact, I’m actively avoiding them.”

Given why she was in Junon in the first place, leading a high ranking Shinra soldier to where Aerith was staying felt like giving her home address to a horde of darkspawn.

Genesis paused and looked at her.

“I see. Why is that, exactly?”

“It doesn’t matter. You need me for something, correct?”

“Yes.”

“You’re not getting so much as a friendly handshake unless I have your word that you’ll keep this to yourself.”

“You have nothing to fear, not from me anyway. You have my word I’ll not tell a soul.”

“Genesis.” she said sweetly, “If you stab me in the back, I will give you every reason to regret it.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t take threats lightly, Hawke.”

“Neither do I.” She kept walking.

They reached the hotel and both trudged up the stairs. She had had quite enough of this particular adventure. The first time she had fought the Xebenkeck it had been with four friends at her back and a wealth of poisons and traps set up to even the playing field, this time it was just her and Genesis, with no gear beside her staff and daggers. She was now feeling the typical complaints of abused muscles after a good fight. It would have been delightful in its familiarity if the man walking beside her hadn’t summoned the blighted demon in the first place.

At the very least she was going to give Genesis a piece of her mind before divulging anything.

She unlocked the door and was met with the sight of Aerith sitting curled up on one of the couches watching the little television.

“Hawke! I didn’t think you’d take- oh, hello.” Aerith stuttered at seeing Genesis enter the room.

“Genesis this is Aerith, Aerith this is Genesis. Make yourself comfortable.”

Hawke would normally start taking off her armour at this point, but with a fully armed SOLDIER in attendance it seemed unwise. She settled for removing her blood and dust encrusted gauntlet. Aerith turned off the TV and stood awkwardly in a corner, unsure on how to proceed. Genesis stood dramatically with his hands behind his back at the window and looked out at the lovely view of the next building’s air conditioning unit.

“I believe you owe me an explanation, Hawke.” he said, doing a fine job of covering his irritation at having to wait so long.

“I don’t owe you a thing Genesis.” she said sharply. “It was your pet demon that attacked me, so how about you start the explaining.”

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye.

“Very well. I’ve had the Shiva Summon for years. I’ve used it many times and not once has it disobeyed my orders, let alone attacked me. I couldn’t have known that you’d angered it somehow, and I would hardly have gone through the effort of tracking you down simply to throw a Summon at you.”

That sounded fairly reasonable she supposed but it begged a bigger question.

“Do you just go around summoning spirits all the time? Whenever you feel like it?” They weren’t casual day workers for goodness sake! What was wrong with these people? Her inquiry seemed to puzzle him.

“Whenever necessary. They’re a useful weapon.” he said, as though it were common knowledge. “Now you answer my question. Who are you? What have you done that even a Summon is holding a grudge against you?”

Hawke sighed and dragged a hand down over her face. She suspected the approaching conversation would be long and arduous.

“I’ll explain, though you probably won’t believe anything I have to say. I hope you don’t have anywhere to be in the immediate future.” She stepped into the tiny kitchen area and set some water to boil. “Tea?”

“I have as long as it takes Hawke.” he deposited himself on the nearest couch. He declined the tea.

“You heard the Xebenkeck, what was it you called her, Shiva?” she asked, leaning against the bench with her arms crossed.

“Yes, Shiva, the Lady of ice.”

“Right. Well, where I come from, we call her Xebenkeck the Undying. She’s said to be one of the Forgotten Ones.”

Genesis looked at her like she’d grown a second head.

“ ‘the Forgotten ones?’ ”

“Yup. So no tea?” clutching her steaming drink to herself she sat down on the remaining couch, Genesis watching her closely, and Aerith curiously looking back and forth between them.

“So, the Forgotten Ones.” she continued, “Few people know about them, but amoungst those that do, talking about them is generally considered unwise. She’s not just a ‘Summon spirit’ as you call her; she’s a demon and an incredibly powerful one at that.”

Going by Genesis expressions, she assumed he didn’t believe a word she was saying. It didn’t matter, he’d asked for the explanation and this was the only one she had.

“She, the Xebenkeck, Shiva, whatever, was lurking in Kirkwall. That’s the city she mentioned, it’s where I’m from. There were a few artefacts scattered about that gave her constant access to the mortal world. I destroyed them. They were essentially keeping a gate open for her, letting her freely come and go and wreak whatever havoc she liked in the under city. I closed the gate and banished her back to the Fade. Suffice to say, she did not appreciate it.”

Genesis seemed to be finding this quite engrossing. “You’re saying she had permanent access to the world? Without the limitations of materia or even someone to command her?” He looked fascinated before the shroud of scepticism descended once more. “But to what end? Why would she even want to haunt this city of yours?”

“For the same reason she let you order her around, I’ll wager. Demons hate this world, but they also crave it. Give them half a chance and they’ll smash their way in and burn the entire place down. Every time you ask her to fight you’re giving her exactly what she wants.”

“Summons have always done as they are told. They have no investment in the fight; they simply adhere to the order of whoever commands the materia. They always have.” He said, sounding more considering than sceptical.

“Did you order that cut on your side?” Hawke asked tartly. He scowled.

“Maybe they’ve been turning on their wielders for years but nobody ever survived to complain about it.” she said. “Regardless, I’ve spent most of my life fighting these things. Shiva herself said it; I booted her out of the Kirkwall and back to the fade.”

He leaned back on the couch and gave her a thoughtful look.

“You keep mentioning this ‘Kirkwall’. I have travelled all over Gaia, yet I have never heard of this city.”

“It’s not in Gaia. Kirkwall is in Thedas, in the Free Marches.” Some part of Hawke hoped he would recognize the names.

“You’re not from Gaia.” he said with a raised eyebrow. “Do you truly expect me to believe that?”

Hawke sighed. “Believe what you like. I’m not going to lie to make you feel better.”

“So you’re an alien.” he said in a tone that couldn’t have been more condescending if he had tried.

“I don’t know. I guess so. I’m a mage so it’s not as though I was any more welcome on Thedas.”

“What does this Thedas have against materia wielders?” Genesis seemed personally affronted by the notion, enough to overlook his cynicism for the moment.

“I don’t use materia, Genesis. It doesn’t exist where I’m from. That’s what a mage is, someone with an inherent connection to the fade. I can summon up a whirling firestorm on willpower alone. So long as I know the technique and have the necessary mana reserves, the sky is the limit.”

He leaned forward, looking intrigued. “Show me.”

She pulled off her leather glove and held up her hand. A little blue mage light glowed in her palm; it was replaced by a small crackling ball of electricity, and then a flickering yellow flame. She closed her fist and the magic dissipated.

“Fascinating…” he said under his breathe, eyes still fixed on her hand.

“You’re also connected to the fade, Genesis; chances are you don’t need materia either. Not really.”

He looked startled, and then a light seemed to go out in his eyes. He lowered his head.

“What do you mean by the Fade, Hawke?” he asked quietly.

She sighed and looked down as well.

“You already know what I’m talking about. The Fade is where you go when you dream. I’ve met you there several times.”

“Dreams are just images created by the subconscious, nothing more.” he said in a bleak voice, trying and failing to convince himself. She knew he hadn’t wanted to believe what she had said in the fade about not being able to heal him, but she hadn’t expected him to cling to his denial like this.

“You grew up with a boy who wouldn’t steal from your apple trees because his honour wouldn’t let him.” Hawke said plainly. She didn’t like being the bearer of bad news, but she wouldn’t give him false hope.

He looked like he’d been struck.

“So the corruption…” he trailed off. Silence filled the room.

“What corruption?” Aerith asked curiously from her corner. He abruptly looked up at her, seemingly having forgotten she was there. He took a moment to collect himself and then stood. He cleared his throat.

“Thank you, Hawke, for the explanation.” he said, his voice empty. He inclined his head at her and then left.

 

* * *

 

The minute Genesis was gone Aerith had immediately peppered Hawke with questions.

Hawke had deflected the vast majority of them and focused on ordering a very late dinner. When she remembered how hungry she was Aerith let the subject drop.

It wasn’t until she had almost finished her box of Wutai cuisine that something occurred to Hawke.

“Aerith.”

“Hmm?” the girl looked up at Hawke, distracted from the gardening show on the little screen.

“Do you have any idea how Genesis could have known we were in Junon?”

“No… oh. Uh, maybe.” she blushed a little and fiddled with her chopsticks.

“Care to enlighten me?” Hawke asked, fairly certain she knew exactly where this was going.

“I left Zack a voice message on his phone.” She offered meekly.

“Did you by any chance tell Zack _the Shinra employee_ where we would be going? You know, _to hide from Shinra_?” Hawke was more resigned than angry at the teenager, but the sarcasm would not be repressed.

“I told him not to tell anyone!”

“I told _you_ not to tell anyone.”

“I didn’t want him to worry.” Aerith said stubbornly.

“Maybe next time, you could tell him you’re visiting a cousin? Delivering some flowers for a sickly Aunt perhaps? Or going into hiding from the organization he works for?”

Both woman suitably irritated they focused on their noodles.

 

* * *

 

“Where is the Champion?” a cold voice rang out.

“I don’t know! I’m telling you the truth, I don’t know where she is!” a voice unmistakably Varric’s cried out.

Hawke’s vision cleared and she was immediately filled with dread. She was in the gallows courtyard, the rubble from her fight with Meredith scattered about everywhere, but all she saw was Varric, bound to a rack and surrounded by helmeted Templars. One of them pulled a metal rod out of a brazier, the end red hot. She couldn’t let this happen, she had to save him!

“We know she trusted you, Dwarf. Tell us where she has gone.” the Templar holding the brand approached. She couldn’t move, why couldn’t she get to him? Varric needed her! She felt as though she was forgetting something but panic over Varric was clouding her thoughts.

“I already told you, I don’t know where she went! I haven’t seen her since that day in the gallows!” Varric’s voice was laced with pain. Oh maker, what had they done to him?

“We know you are lying. You will not leave this place until you tell us the truth.”

Hawke was starting to panic; her best friend was being tortured and she didn’t know what to do.

“I’ve told you everything I know! You have to believe me!”

“I will let you help him.” a silky voice whispered behind her. Hawke spun around; there was nobody to be seen.

“Do you wish to rescue your loyal storyteller?” the voice whispered, soft and alluring. “I can give you the strength to do so.”

“Yes! I’ll do any-” Wait. She knew that voice.

Hawke looked around her and wondered how the swirling green sky had escaped her notice. She wanted to slap herself; of course this was the Fade, she hadn’t been in Kirkwall for months now.

“It’s a trick. This is all just a trick.” She said firmly. She would not fall prey to any demon. The Xebenkeck appeared in front of her.

“I am simply showing you what has happened in your absence. Did you think the Chantry would not seek recompense? That your friends would not suffer in your stead?” The voice of the Xebenkeck echoed around her, no longer tempting but cold and cruel. “While you relax in Midgar, they scream and beg for mercy.”

“No, Please!” Varric screamed. “Stop! I’ve told you everything I know!”

Hawke turned away and tried to block out the sound, ignoring the moisture gathering at the corners of her eyes.

“No, it can’t be. They wouldn’t. Varric’s too smart to get caught. And even if he was caught, he’d talk his way out of it.” She said with forced confidence. “This, this is all just a lie made to break me.” If she was wrong… no. It couldn’t be real. It wasn’t real and that was final.

The Xebenkeck laughed. “Oh little Hawke, how long can you lie to yourself?” She looked the demon in the eye.

“Better my lies than yours.” She plunged a dagger in the spirit’s chest.

 

* * *

 

Hawke opened her eyes.

She was in the hotel room’s living room, draped over the couch in a position that was doing horrible things to her neck. She hadn’t intended to doze off; sleeping in her armour was never comfortable. She stood and stretched.

Nightly temptations were not a new phenomenon. They didn’t normally hit so close to home though. Usually she could see right through the demons and shrug it all off the next morning. She must just be out of practise. She could still hear Varric’s screams.

_‘Not real_ ’, she muttered to herself, ‘ _None of it’s real._ ’

It was still dark. She had only been asleep for a couple of hours according to the flashing light on the microwave. She doubted she’d be sleeping again anytime soon. The little hotel room felt constricting and overheated. Remembering they were on the top floor, she fled to see if there was roof access, craving a breath of fresh air.

She found the door to the roof. It must have been padlocked at one point, but the lock was broken. The door swung open and she smiled at the rush of cold air that hit her. She stepped out onto the flat roof and marvelled at the vast expanse of stars above her. She had missed this.

Movement on her right caught her eye.

Genesis was sitting on the ledge.

 

 

 


	10. Rooftops and Weaponry

Genesis’ mind was in turmoil.

Hawke’s trite explanations whirled around his head wreaking havoc on long held thoughts and assumptions. And yet she had sat looking at him so casually, sprawled over a dingy hotel couch, calmly drinking her tea.Despite desperately wanting to ask about his corruption, to demand a thorough explanation for how she had healed him and what it all meant, they were not alone. He wouldn’t speak of it with an audience, Hawke might already know about his degradation but it wasn’t something he was prepared to discuss in front of the curious teenager in the corner. Instead he swept out of the room.

A few hours later he was sitting on the waist high ledge of the hotel’s roof. The sun had long set; a host of stars and the waning moon filled the heavens and reflected on the calm ocean below.Genesis stared out at the view, craving the tranquillity of the night sky. The wind wiped his coat around him; it felt like an acknowledgment of his whirling thoughts.

Hawke’s bizarre account had certainly given him much to think over, (he would undoubtedly be spending the foreseeable future trying to cast spells without materia), but at the forefront of his mind was what this meant for his corruption.

The dreams had been real.

Whatever the ‘fade’ was, he hadn’t simply imagined meeting Hawke there. So he hadn’t imagined her saying she couldn’t heal him either.

Perhaps she was lying? She had healed his shoulder and then his side just this afternoon, why not the rest? But then why would she lie? She didn’t like Shinra. Maybe that was the reason. For all his dislike of the company he was still one of its most prominent figures. Could she be content to watch him fall apart if only to spite his employers? Even as the thought passed through his head he dismissed it. He might not have spent much time with Hawke, but he didn’t think she would be so cruel. She had healed him twice already when she had no obligation to do so.

She had mentioned a brother. A brother who had died of degradation. If she had the means to heal it, she would have started with him.

So this was all a waste.

A bizarre and convoluted goose chase that had cost him precious time and seen him kill his own Summon. Genesis didn’t know if he wanted to drown himself in morose poetry or just burn the hotel down, magical aliens be damned- 

Wait. A thought struck him.

If she wasn’t from Gaia, then how could her brother get the corruption? Of all Shinra’s SOLDIERs only he and Angeal had been created in such a way that resulted in degradation, and that was because of highly specific genetic modification while still in the womb. Even Sephiroth, who was only slightly different, wasn’t subject to the degrading. If the brother’s genetics were different then perhaps there was still hope?

He knew he was grasping at straws. Part of his mind condemned how pathetic it was, the other half didn’t care so long as his death sentence was delayed. He had once thought that he could maintain his dignity regardless of circumstance. That was before he had been told in no uncertain terms that he was dying.

The door behind him creaked.

He turned his head in time to see Hawke step out onto the roof. The teenage accompaniment was absent. She looked up at stars, apparently not having noticed him yet, and sighed in what sounded like relief.

He wondered how long it would take her to notice she had company. Her head whipped around to face him. Apparently not long then.

“Genesis.” she said, “You’re not secretly homeless, I hope?”

She approached and leaned on a crate next to him.

“Hawke.” He really should have realised she was the same Hawke he spoke to in his dreams. She had the same mannerisms and attitude. She carried herself with the same resigned air of someone perpetually waiting for the next explosion. He hoped he wasn’t about to trigger one such explosion now.

“What happened to your brother?” he asked quietly.

She seemed taken aback by the sudden question, but he wasn’t in the mood for banter. He suspected it was a delicate subject, he just hoped she would be inclined to talk about it.

She sighed and looked down at her hands. The spikey gauntlet and leather gloves had been removed, exposing scarred and callous ridden fingers.

“He got infected. The blight got him.”

Infected? He was fairly certain it wasn’t contagious.

He asked what the blight was. She was still looking down.

“Darkspawn. The taint.” she looked up from her hands, as though remembering she wasn’t conversing with herself. “There are these creatures, called Darkspawn, that are corrupted. They live underground and there are tens of thousands of them, if not more. They are mindless, decaying mockeries of life who destroy everything around them. If you get infected you join them. Carver… he must have had an open wound that...” She stopped, her bleak narration faltering.

“And it killed him.” he finished for her.

“No. Well, yes, technically.” At his confused expression she continued. “The corruption is a death sentence. There’s no escaping it. Carver was recruited by the Grey Wardens, they can’t cure the taint, but they can slow it down somehow. They’re a secretive group, dedicated to fighting the darkspawn until they join the horde themselves. Carver could already be gone, I don’t know.”

Her usually expressive face was cold and vacant. She looked lost. The description she gave was chilling, but definitely not the corruption he had. Clearly he still had reason to be grateful.

“I am sorry for your loss.” he said carefully. Her brother’s death was obviously still painful for her; he didn’t wish to come across as dismissive. “There is no such blight on Gaia.”

“Isn’t there?” she asked.

“I was born with my corruption.”

“It’s taking its sweet time then.” she said, shrugging off the ghost of her brother.

He narrowed his eyes. “No longer, I’m afraid. When you healed my shoulder, you reversed much of the damage. I would ask you to do so again.”

She gave him a measuring look. “If it’s not the Blight then what is it?”

He returned the measuring gaze. He might be indebted to her, but this wasn’t something he explained casually.

“Don’t give me that,” she said at the look he was giving her, “I answered your questions, now answer mine.”

“You cannot speak of this to anyone.”

“Alright. You have my word.”

“Shinra creates its enhanced SOLDIER operatives by injecting Mako into the bloodstream of adults. When the process was just being developed however, they experimented with injecting Mako, amoung other things, into an unborn child.”

Hawke looked horrified.

“I am the result. As are the two other strongest SOLDIERs Shinra has. The process was flawed though, and now I am breaking down. My body is rejecting the enhancements it was born with and it is tearing me apart at the seams.” He watched her face expecting to see pity but there was nothing but anger in her expression.

“Who do they think they are? They can’t just-” she cut herself off and turned her head aside.

A few minutes later she looked at him again, a thoughtful expression replacing her anger.

“When I healed your shoulder, there was something there. Something vicious and malignant wrapped around your core and crushing you in its grip. It felt so much like the blight I assumed that it was.”

“It cannot be. There are no darkspawn here. This is just the result of Shinra’s arrogance and complete disregard for anyone other than themselves.” he didn’t care if his bitterness coloured his voice, there was no point hiding his hatred for the company.

“Bastards.” she sounded genuinely sickened.

“Quite.” He looked out again at tiered city and the ocean beyond. The wind had dropped, leaving nothing but stillness. Hawke sighed.

“It probably won’t work but… I can try to heal you, Genesis.” she said. “I’m not much of a healer, I never have been. My skill isn’t anything to write home about but I can try. If there’s anything I can do…”

“I would appreciate it.” More than he could ever say, though he suspected she knew that.

He left the ledge and stood facing her; unsure as to what exactly she had in mind. She stood directly in front of him.

“Alright, give me your hand.” she said, taking his hand without waiting for him to comply.

“You have a terrible bedside manner.”

“If you’re very good, then afterwards you can have a lollypop.” she said lightly. He rolled his eyes.

She held his right hand in her left, and lifted her other hand to his chest. She placed it just over his heart, her fingers sinking into the material of his uniform. Standing as close as they were he noticed she smelt like electricity and blackberries.

“Depending on how this goes, it may hurt a bit. Hopefully not, but if it does, terribly sorry.”

“That is a great comfort.” he said in a dry tone.

She closed her eyes. He watched her brow pull down in concentration and felt the tell-tale tension of magic fill the air. He felt a warmth grow somewhere in the depths of his chest. Hawke tilted her head to the side in what looked to be confusion. That did not bode well.

Her grip on his hand tightened. The warmth in his chest spread in every direction and turned into a burning heat just edging on pain. Aches and pains he had learnt to live with sharpened for a moment and then faded away entirely, as did a strange numbness in his mind that he hadn’t noticed was there. Everything felt sharper and more distinct, as though his very thoughts had been partially veiled from him. Hawke’s look of concentration had turned into an open grimace and she was breathing heavily. She pulled away with a yell. He steadied her when she began to collapse.

She leaned back against a crate and tried to regain her breath.

Genesis stood back and felt muscle stretch without pain for the first time in what was surely the longest year of his life. The relief was so great he had to stop himself from embracing Hawke in celebration.

“How are you feeling?” she asked when she had regained herself.

“I feel… whole.” He was probably smiling like a fool. He didn’t care. “I haven’t felt this healthy in over a year. Thank you, Hawke.” He said, bowing. “That didn’t hurt at all.”

She laughed, “Clearly you got the better end of the deal. Oh,” she clutched her head in her hand, “I’ve fought sentient rocks that didn’t hit that hard.”

“I didn’t hit you.” he said, puzzled.

“No, but whatever’s eating you did. I’ve done what I could Genesis, it’s not gone, but you should last longer now.”

That gave him pause. So it wasn’t yet over after all. Still, he had a reprieve that he would not let go to waste. “Do you know how long?” he asked.

“No idea. I guess if you just stay at home and knit then it’ll probably be ages yet.”

He chuckled,

“Is that your recommendation then, Doctor? Take up knitting?”

“I hear it’s very soothing.” Hawke said lightly, before growing serious again. “Whatever you’ve got Genesis, it’s vicious. Even the blight doesn’t fight back like that.” she shook her head and sat on the low crate beside her.

“I am in your debt, Hawke.” he leaned back against the crate opposite her. He might not be completely healed yet, but he was far better than he had been. That bought him more time to find a permanent solution, for both himself and Angeal. In the meantime, he wasn’t in any pain and in near perfect form. How refreshing.

“The goddess descends from the sky, wings of light and dark spread afar.” he quoted quietly from memory, smiling at the familiar words that no longer sounded so ominous. “She guides us to bliss, her gift everlasting…”

Hawke was looking at him oddly. “Well that gift wasn’t everlasting so try not to pick a fight with a herd of Dragons or anything. If you need a patch up, well, let me know.”

“You are kinder than I could have hoped, Hawke. And it would be a pack of dragons, not a herd.”

“Yeah well if I need a favour I’ll let you know. And wouldn’t it be a flock?”

“I will aid you however I can.” he said while inclining his head

“And no it wouldn’t be a flock, that’s absurd, they aren’t geese.”

“Of course not because a group of geese is called a gaggle. Maybe it’s a murder of Dragons, like crows.”

“Fitting, though I think a brood might be the proper term.”

“Wouldn’t that just be for a group of younger dragons?”

“You never get more than one old dragon so it hardly matters.”

“Where exactly do you imagine the younger dragons come from Genesis?”

 

* * *

They were back in Midgar. Aerith was glad.

As much as she had enjoyed their stay in Junon, it was all a little overwhelming and certainly exhausting. Her first time out of Midgar and her first time under the clear blue sky; it had been glorious, but nothing could replace home, grimy and dark as it was. And it wasn’t because she missed Zack, no matter what Hawke insinuated.

Well, it wasn’t just because she missed Zack. She missed her mother as well.

Regardless, they had been back for a few days now and were slipping back into their comfortable routine. Reno had smirked at Hawke when they reached the church that morning and asked how their holiday had been. Hawke had loudly declared how much she enjoyed visiting Fort Condor and Reno had wandered off laughing.

After another morning of trying to cast a simple shield spell and not even the smallest amount of success, Hawke had gotten up and said they were going out. She’d refused to answer questions as to where or why, other than they weren’t getting lunch.

Aerith followed along trying to guess where they were going. Hawke led her into Sector 6 and through streets she didn’t recognize to a little store stuck in a wall. Aerith was no closer to guessing.

Hawke held the door open for her with a smile. Aerith stepped in and gasped.

The store was full of nothing but staffs. Lining the walls, in stands filling the room, there were all manner of magical staves, just beckoning her.

“I can’t afford the high end staffs, Aerith, but you probably couldn’t wield them anyway. If you search that end of the store and I’ll search over here, I’m sure we’ll find something perfect for you.”

“Thanks Hawke!” She spun around and hugged the woman, before skipping to the back of the store.

There were so many to choose from! Long ones, short ones, carved, rough, patterned, enchanted, with blades, materia slots, the options were endless. She had no idea what she preferred but eagerly looked through them all anyway. Behind her she heard Hawke say hi to the store owner who greeted her by name. She wanted to try them out, to actually see how her magic felt coursing through them but that would draw too much attention. She didn’t have any materia with her, (she didn’t have any materia at all in fact) so she would just have to go by looks and prodding.

She was comparing a sanded birch staff that had a blue crystal set into the end with a staff of dark walnut with a bunch of red ribbons wrapped around one end. Hawke came and stood next to her.

“Never go for ribbons, they fray almost immediately and then the entire look is ruined.” Hawke said.

“But it’ll still work though right?” Practicality was key wasn’t it?

“Yeah but if you can look great then why not?” she said with a laugh in her voice.

“You don’t pick your clothes for looks.” She said, looking at Hawke’s spikey gauntlet.

“You don’t really think my armour has this sexy fur hood for practicality do you?” Aerith giggled before returning her attention to the task at hand.

Even Hawke’s peculiarities couldn’t distract her from the lovely staffs surrounding her. “So you think the one with the blue crystal then?”

“That one will help with ice; birch wood always carries the cold splendidly.” She held out a staff she had been holding behind her back. “What do you think of this one?”

It was bone white with a set of wings carved into the end, the tips of the wings pointing straight up.

“Oh Hawke it’s beautiful!”

“It’s made for spirit healers specifically, so you’ll be even more impressive with this. It will also help with shields and force spells.”

“It’s so light!” Aerith exclaimed, holding it as she had seen Hawke hold her staff. She started to move it around.

“No twirling permitted inside the store.” the store owner said from the counter, not even looking up from his book.

“Sorry! I think it’s perfect, Hawke. It’s not too much is it?”

“Don’t worry about it. You’re mother keeps me fed after all.”

She took the staff to the counter where she placed it decisively on the desk.

She was about to be the proud owner of her very own staff. She had no interest in fighting with it; she had no interest in fighting at all really. But staffs were the tools of someone magical; she liked to think the ancient Cetra wielded them, just like Hawke did. It was something she could carry that declared that she used magic without drawing attention or being strange. She was so excited.

“Will you be needing any materia to go with that, little lady?” The man behind the counter asked with a kindly smile.

“No thanks!” She smiled at him, “Just the staff please.”

Hawke paid for it with a smile and then handed it to Aerith with a flourish. She spent the next five minutes trying to figure out how not to trip herself up while carrying it on her back. Finally Hawke took mercy on her and after she and the store owner stopped laughing, she gave her a few pointers and ushered her out of the shop.

They weren’t three steps out the door when someone called out Aerith’s name. Not a moment later Zack appeared from the crowd of passers-by.

“Aerith! I was just on my way to the church- hey! Nice staff! Brand new, huh?”

“Yup! Hawke bought it for me.” Zack suggested having lunch together in the church.

Hawke politely excused herself and left, shouting back to Zack about how he better not be ‘getting handsy’ while she’s away.


	11. Next Door Dreamers

So this was the ‘Fade.’

Genesis wandered through the strange land of his dreams. The knowledge that it was actually real on some level just made the swirling green all the more unreal.

It had been just over a week since he’d found Hawke in Junon. Now he was back in Midgar and wondering what exactly he ought to be doing. His joy at having been revitalized had been replaced with contemplation. Hawke could only provide a temporary fix, which meant the permanent solution was elsewhere. The question ‘Now what?’ hung over him and he was yet to discover the answer.

He picked a direction and started walking. He brushed it off as mere coincidence when he noticed it was the same direction Hawke always came from.

He hoped he’d come across a monster or two. Not that he had ever encountered any here, but after a frustrating day it would have been appreciated. He’d spent far more time then he would admit in the Shinra training rooms trying to cast something, anything, without using materia. His efforts had produced no results other than making him feel (and probably look) like a fool. Clearly Hawke knew something he didn’t, and that wasn’t something he was going to stand for.

At the very least he wanted to know how that vortex attack worked. The swirling storm of lightning and fire that knocked Shiva from the mortal realm would be a fine addition to his arsenal. Given that one of his favourite Summons was now out of commission it was almost a necessity. He’d removed his Shiva Summon materia from his collection with great remorse. It might have proven to be a dangerous and probably crazy spirit from another world but it had also been incredibly useful over the years. He wondered what that meant for his other Summons. Were they all the same demons Hawke talked about? What other demonic creatures roamed Gaia that nobody knew about?

The world suddenly held much more mystery for Genesis then it had in years. His insatiable curiosity had been rudely awoken and wouldn’t slumber again until it was duly satisfied. He had a burning need to understand, to root out all the secrets that he might be a part of them, or at least use them to his advantage. Now that he knew dream-Hawke was in fact the genuine article, getting information should be much easier.

He still didn’t know what to make of half the answers she gave, but that just made him all the more curious. At least now there was no rush.

His wanderings had taken him to a little dell, below he could see Hawke.

She wasn’t alone. Shiva stood behind her, whispering something in her ear. Hawke shook her head, a look of anguish on her face.

There were three men in front of her; she was so focused on them she didn’t notice Genesis standing beyond them.

Of the three men the first Genesis noticed had pointy ears and tattoos as white as his hair, he was collared and shackled. A bearded man dressed in robes was handing money over to the third, a man in heavy armour holding a whip. The tattooed man looked so broken and defeated. What was all this? Going by Hawke’s expression she certainly wasn’t happy about the proceedings. Why was she just watching?

“It’s not real, Xebenkeck.” Hawke said in a voice that allowed argument. “Fenris would sooner die, and that slaver bastard is dead. None of this is real.”

Shiva laughed gaily. The sound grated on Genesis’ ears.

“Have you convinced yourself yet, little mage?”

Hawke turned her back on the scene in a clear dismissal. The blue demon faded away, as did the three men, evaporating into the air around them.

Hawke hung her head, still not aware of her audience. Something occurred to Genesis.

“Why only Hawke?” he murmured to himself. It seemed odd; the spirit seemed intent on tormenting the woman but he had helped kill her as well. Why he was spared the Summon’s ire? Not that he was complaining.

Shiva suddenly materialized in front of him. His hand flew to the hilt of his sword.

“Question, mortal?” she asked with a sly look.

“Why her?” he asked, genuinely curious, “I have ordered you around like a dumb beast for years and I helped her kill you. Why are you so focused on Hawke?”

“Feeling left out are you?” She ran her clawed hand down his cheek, he tried to bat her away but his hand passed right through her.

“Do not fret, little Soldier. Another has staked their claim on you. I am sure they will collect in due time.” She smiled darkly at him before fading away again.

He blinked at where the rogue summon had been. Failing to make sense of her words, he stored them away for later consideration.

“Genesis.” Hawke was looking up at him. “You saw that.” she wasn’t asking.

“Friends of yours?” He asked; nodding to the where the three spectres had stood.

“One of them was. Or at least, that was a cheap imitation of him. Frankly, I’m insulted on his behalf.” She said with a levity that didn’t reach her eyes, “She’s just trying to eat my soul, no big deal.”

He walked down into the glen to stand across from her. She looked the same as she always did, fully armed and armoured, though she seemed tired. Odd, given that they were both technically sleeping.

“This happens regularly then?” he asked.

“It did back on Thedas. It’s less common here. In Kirkwall I’d enter the Fade to find the demons practically queuing up to offer me terrible deals. Apparently I’m quite the commodity.” she said bitterly.

“Ever accept the deal?”

“Maker, no! What part of ‘she wants to eat my soul’ did you misunderstand? No, heck, I’ve made a career killing blood mages, not exchanging notes with them.”

“Is that what you do?” He couldn’t be surprised she fought for a living; she wore her armour like a second skin. “Blood mages, I take it they use magic fuelled by these demons then?”

“Taught by demons. Fuelled by blood. I thought that bit was rather obvious. That’s where all the forbidden arts come from, tricks like mind reading, or even mind altering if you’re sneaky about it.”

Genesis was supremely glad that no such magic existed on Gaia. Any power of the sort would be immediately seized by Shinra, and he shuddered to think what the power hungry company would do with such abilities. Although, it was a shame he would never get to see this foreign magic.

“I was unaware such things were possible, though I can see why it would be forbidden. By the sounds of it your magic rather outstrips ours.” Genesis said, unaware of how his eyes gleamed, “Your armies must be terrifying.”

“Nothing special actually.” she said with a shrug, “The only mages that are terrifying are typically the murderous blood themed sort, the kind I’m paid to inconvenience. The rest are all just trying to stay on the Templars’ good side.”

“I would think they should be trying to stay on your good side.” he said haughtily.

Hawke tipped her head back and laughed.

“Oh Genesis, you’d do terribly in Kirkwall. Mages are required by law to live under lock and key. The Templars are there to make sure we behave ourselves. If they think you’re a threat then you won’t live long enough to prove them right.”

“Are you saying you live in a prison? You truly let them treat you like that?” He certainly wouldn’t have stood for it. “What an appalling waste.”

“Well not me specifically, I’m an apostate. An illegal mage, living outside of chantry parameters. I’ve spent most of my life in hiding. I grew up pretending not to be a mage.”

“So you just hid, even though you have both the skill and the weapons to defend yourself. I’m a little disappointed, Hawke.” he said in a tone that was mostly teasing. She snorted.

“Half of my family were apostates. We wouldn’t have stood a chance if we confronted the Templars. They’d have drained our magic and then promptly arrested us for the heinous crime of existing without permission. And that would have left my poor mother with nobody but Carver for company. Nobody deserves that.”

“Your world sounds very depressing.”

“Thank the maker I ended up on Gaia then.” she said, her voiced drenched in sarcasm.

A moment passed as Genesis contemplated her. Despite her insistence he had a very hard time picturing Hawke hiding from anyone. She didn’t carry herself like someone living in fear; and she had never cowered away from him, many others certainly did. The number of scars visible on her arms alone were testament to a life lived on the edge, not cowering at home.

“You really don’t act like someone in hiding, Hawke.” She sighed and sat on the destroyed remains of a pillar.

“I’m not hiding. Not anymore. I earned a name for myself, eventually.” she said, “Money, a fancy estate, even a title to match. The Templars let me be; I was too famous, or too useful to be dragged down to the gallows. Of course by then it was too late. I was the only one left.” She was looking at the ground and clearly not seeing it. Genesis knew that look; it was common to a lot of the men after the war with Wutai. It spoke of someone who had survived all manner of horrors while watching their comrades fall, someone who had lost so much they didn’t know what to do with the few pieces left to them.

He didn’t like seeing that look on Hawke.

“You have a title?” he asked, steering the conversation away from more painful discussion.

“Yeah, technically.” she said, looking up. “Not the sort where I get respect or money, or heaven forbid any actual authority. I was just the city’s Solver of Inconvenient Problems.” her usual jovial tone returned.

“Sounds very official.” he said dryly.

“Champion of Kirkwall.” she said, spreading her arms. “The city was very proud.”

“Champion?” He had never heard the word used as a title before. Then again official titles outside the military were an outdated practice on Gaia. Recalling how she looked as the lightning imbued warrior who had fought back to back with him against Shiva, it seemed fitting.

“Yeah Mr ‘Warrior Poet’, Champion. That’s what I get for poking my nose into everyone else’s business. More trouble than it’s worth really.” she said, brushing dust off her shoulder. “Actually, speaking of Kirkwall, I wanted to ask you a favour.”

“Oh? What do you need?” It seemed he would get to repay her sooner than anticipated.

“I need to get back. To Kirkwall, that is.” She dragged a hand down over her face. “I just don’t know how to go about it.”

“What makes you think I would know?” He hadn’t even heard of Kirkwall a fortnight ago.

“I don’t expect you to know, but you might be able to help me find out. If nothing else you know how things work here. I don’t have any resources or contacts, just enough know-how to get through the day.”

“I see.” This was a problem. If she left then he would have nowhere to turn should he or Angeal be injured. She was his only solution so far, and he was loath to risk losing that. However, there was no denying that he was incalculably in her debt. At the very least he would help her search, there was no guarantee she would be leaving immediately anyway.

“I will help you however I can Hawke. Although you will need to tell me more about your world first.”

“Thank you. And you were going to ask that anyway.” she said with a grin.

“Perhaps.”

 

* * *

Meeting Genesis in the Fade soon became a regular event. Hawke found she rather enjoyed bickering with him. At first they had discussed Thedas at length. He had asked how she ended up on Gaia and she answered in the most succinct manner possible, telling him only about the magical lyrium sword that shattered.

Endless discussion and theorizing brought them to the conclusion that neither had any clue what happened, or how to fix it. He said he would continue to look into it, though he hadn’t had much luck.

After asking an absurd amount of questions something had occurred to Genesis. He declared her world to be ‘pre-industrial’ with more patronization than previously thought possible. He then exclaimed how impressed he was that she could keep up with the oh-so-advanced people of Gaia when her own world was so rudimentary. She threw an equally rudimentary gravity spell at him and watched him smack face first into the ground.

He eventually told her about being a SOLDIER and Shinra itself. He seemed to be relishing the fact that nobody would ever know what he said in the fade and made a point of spilling Shinra’s secrets almost for the sake of it. In light of the things he told her, she could understand wanting to stab the company in the back. His resentment against them had him pacing back and forth in agitation while he spoke.

The SOLDIER proved to have something of an explosive temper, and Hawke wasn’t remotely fazed by it. A conversation about chocobo breeding of all things had devolved into a spirited yelling match. As absurd as the entire situation was (she neither knew nor cared for anything about the breeding of chocobos), it had been delightful to get into a real argument with someone who wasn’t going to get offended or burst into tears. Her friends from Kirkwall had never agreed on anything, all this time surrounded by Aerith and her mother who were always so polite and agreeable went against everything Hawke considered normal.

Genesis clearly thought his own opinions were above scrutiny and Hawke was just thrilled to prove him wrong. They hadn’t agreed on anything since and were now friends.

After talking about fighting styles the night before, she had mentioned how much she missed the brutal fights she used to have so regularly. He had agreed that the slums lacked any real threats these days. After looking thoughtful for a moment Genesis made an absurd suggestion which she immediately agreed to.

That was why she was currently waltzing straight into Shinra headquarters. Aerith was feeling under the weather and Hawke was determined to enjoy a day of gallivanting.

She looked around at the ostentatious design of the massive lobby. Clearly restraint wasn’t the company’s strong point. The entire building spoke of excess in everything but humility. They would get along splendidly with the nobility of Kirkwall.

She spotted Genesis, standing next to the desk of a clearly unnerved clerk. The poor lady seemed to be caught in a struggle between asking him for a signature or running away in fear.

“Genesis.” Hawke said as she approached.

“You’re late.” he said, his arms crossed.

“Yeah well, I thought you meant the other horizon obliterating skyscraper.”

He rolled his eyes and led the way to the nearest elevator. Hawke could feel the indignant eyes of the desk clerk trying to burn holes in her back. Perhaps she would appear in a gossip magazine tomorrow. She could already see it: ‘Mysterious woman stands next to Commander Rhapsodos!’

The numbers in the elevator ticked by.

“So,” she started, “Are we allowed to be doing this?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“Oh, what fun. I love breaking and entering.”

“We are not breaking and entering; I’m simply taking liberties with the policy on visitors. These levels are all restricted to SOLDIER.”

The elevator doors opened to reveal a bland hallway.

“Well, this empty corridor is clearly very important. Wouldn’t want anyone finding out about it.”

Genesis just shook his head and began navigating their way through the identical hallways. How everyone wasn’t constantly lost Hawke had no idea. They walked swiftly along, the carpeted walls absorbing the sound of their footsteps. Occasionally they passed SOLDIERs, some saluted Genesis; while others, mostly the younger ones, did a terrible job of pretending they weren’t staring. She could hear the wave of whispered gossip behind them. It took all of Hawke’s restraint to not chuckle.

This reminded her of strolling into the old Qunari compound, with all their steely gazes pinned on her as though the sheer force of their indignation might make her spontaneously combust. Or perhaps wandering through the gallows courtyard, with the Templar’s awkwardly looking at her mage’s staff, brazenly displayed like a challenge, knowing they weren’t brave enough to arrest her. Not that the SOLDIERs seemed antagonistic, just far more curious than they probably ought to be.

They finally reached their destination. A non-descript door, leading into a large metal room.

“We have arrived.” he said, gesturing grandly.

“This is a lovely empty room Genesis.”

“Ye of little faith.” he said, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “I’ll set up the simulation and hopefully your medieval little mind can handle it.” She snorted.

“All right. Impress me.” she said, wearing her best I-am-not-impressed face.

He smirked before pulling out his phone and tapping a few commands into it. Suddenly the room around them changed, the plain metal walls disappearing entirely. In their place was a lush forest. The sounds of wildlife and the smell of trees and plants filled the air, with soft rays of light filtering down through the canopy. It took all of Hawke’s restraint not to let her jaw drop. Even the ground which had been plain metal was now spongy moss and fallen leaves.

“What- How did… huh.” How did they create such complex illusions without using magic? She checked, but there was no feel of magic at all. No wonder these people ruled the world.

“Consider yourself impressed.” Genesis said, sounding very smug.

“I’ll admit it, I did not see that coming. What is this?”

“The Virtual Reality training room. Are you ready to kill some monsters?” he said, drawing his sword.

After a thorough explanation which didn’t satisfy any of Hawke’s questions they began stalking through the undergrowth. The room was set to ‘random encounters’ and had no limit cap on the number of monsters it could throw at them.

Hawke pulled out her two main daggers, brimming with anticipation for a fight.

 

 


	12. Recreational Violence

 

This ‘Virtual Reality’ business was awesome, thought Hawke.

The forest around them felt alive and breathing. Silently prowling for monsters had all the thrills of a real hunt. The scenery reminded her of the Kokari Wilds; Endless swamp masquerading as a charming forest, with all sorts of nasties just waiting to jump out at you. The only inaccuracy was the humidity; a rainforest like this ought to have been hot and muggy leaving them drenched within minutes. Instead the air had the feel of a nicely air conditioned gym. She wished all forests could be so accommodating.

Traipsing through the undergrowth she felt a tingling on the back of her neck that said they were being watched. Hawke and Genesis weren’t the only predators about. So far they had only encountered small and easily dispatched creatures (none of which she could identify), but the fights were getting progressively more challenging.

They were currently being swarmed by flying insects each the size of a cow and resistant to electrical damage. A few overpowered gravity spells grounded most of the monsters and she and Genesis sliced through them ruthlessly. She fought well alongside the swordsman. She did the sneaking and the zapping and he did the hacking and the slashing. Of course, Genesis also set everything on fire, so that was a plus too. The initial focused tension had melted away into competing for the most interesting kills. Genesis’ dark energy spell had the monsters melting; while her crushing prison attack had them exploding in a rain of colourful innards that always seemed to land on the SOLDIER. All told she was having a marvellous time, despite being covered in insect guts.

“Wait, wait, it turned you into a frog?” she asked, ducking under an attack.

“If you tell this to anyone Hawke I swear I’ll shred you into a thousand tiny pieces.” He said as he sliced a monster in two.

“Of course you will, but seriously, a frog?” The tale of one of his first missions to a similar area had her trying her best not to laugh at him.

“There were stories of the little fiends turning people into frogs but I assumed it was nonsense. How could it be otherwise? As it turned out they do in fact have a spell that changes your shape but only if they feel threatened and you’re within close range.” he threw a fire spell and a glare that just dared her to laugh.

“So what did you do?” one of her weighty earth spells had the creatures encased in brittle stone which she gleefully went about smashing.

“I hopped away obviously.” he said with a roll of his eyes. Hawke lost the struggle to not laugh. “I got better.” he added.

“I’ve heard of shape shifters back home but they’re pretty rare.” she said when she had recovered her decorum. “Even then I don’t think they can turn other people into different forms.”

“How would you even go about such a thing?”

“No idea. The chantry doesn’t teach it, and the Tevinters think it’s too barbaric to be worth their time. I met an old lady who could turn into a dragon once.” Mysterious old Flemeth, she wondered what became of her. “Then again, she might have just been a dragon that could turn into a lady. It’s hard to tell with these things.”

Genesis seemed intrigued. “Turning into a dragon at will, how useful. Imagine flying over the battlefield, reigning fire down from above.” Given the amount of carnage he was already dishing out, Hawke thought that would be wholly unfair on his enemies. They were running out of monsters as it was.

“I asked her to teach me but had to settle for getting a ride instead.”

“I can’t tell if you’re serious or not.”

“Dead serious. She gave us a lift out of Lothering and in return I made a delivery for her. I kept waiting for the deal to backfire but the whole thing went over surprisingly well.”

“You find yourself in the most absurd situations, Hawke.”

“You’re the one who got turned into a frog.” she said with a laugh. He scowled and impaled the last giant insect.

After a few hours of fighting they opted to take a break. Genesis was barely tiring, the SOLDIER’s enhancements were beyond anything Hawke could even hope to compete with, but her magic was still consistently stronger so her pride lived to see another day.

She sat on a relatively un-trampled patch of moss, and leant back on her hands. The corpses of the various monsters had all faded away, leaving the forest clean if rather worse for wear. Genesis stabbed his sword into the ground and sat on the broken trunk of a fallen tree.

“You know, every mage I know fights with a staff.” she said. “It’s so bizarre seeing someone throw spells while swinging a sword around.”

“You don’t always fight with a staff.” he said, nodding at her daggers which rested on the ground next to her.

“No, but I don’t count. Rules are for other people. Like you.” He scoffed and crossed his arms.

“Every SOLDIER fights with a sword. I have an incredible affinity for materia but I am a SOLDIER first and foremost.” he said solemnly.

“An ‘incredibly affinity’ huh?” she asked with a raised brow.

“The very first time I held a materia I set my mother’s flower bed on fire.”

“Was it on purpose?” she asked, chuckling.

“No, though I was hardly repentant. I had found the materia earlier and brought it home. I was just holding it, wondering how it worked.” he sounded wistful.

“And then no more petunias.”

“For a twelve year old with no mana reserves, that’s very impressive.” he said in a haughty tone.

“I was thirteen when I first showed my magic. I sneezed and a tree blew up.” He laughed and shook his head,

“You must be terrifying when you’ve got a cold.”

“I do have a little more control these days. Now when I blow things up, it’s usually on purpose.” Hawke said with a smile.

“I can see that. So why bother with the daggers?”

“Because a staff screams ‘I’m a mage, please arrest me!’ That and we only had one staff and my sister couldn’t control her magic without it. When I was fifteen I convinced a priestess from the local chantry to teach me how to fight with daggers so I wouldn’t have to risk blowing my cover.”

“A priestess? Is that normal?” he asked.

“It’s not normal at all. I caught her practicing by herself out in the woods one day and demanded she teach me or I would rat her out to the Reverend Mother.” She said.

He gave her an incredulous look. “So you, a teenage girl, alone and incapable of fighting, threatened someone who was in the middle of combat practise?” He laughed in a distinctly mocking manner. “I can’t even bring myself to be surprised, Hawke.”

“It seemed like a good idea at the time.” she said, rolling her eyes at her younger self’s folly. “Fortunately she took it in stride, said my attempts at manipulating her were ‘simply darling’ and promptly gave me my own dagger set. I think she just wanted someone to spar with.”

“I can’t tell if your luck is amazing or simply awful.”

“Awful. Trust me.” and there was no lack of evidence.

“Then it matches your armour.” he drawled.

“You take that back, my armour is clearly fabulous.” she said in mostly artificial indignation. “You’re the one fighting in a trench coat. We’re indoors; it’s probably not going to rain.”

Genesis apparently didn’t consider that worth answering. He stood and they resumed the hunt. He changed the settings to generate one last monster, a ‘boss fight’ he called it.

There was no need to go searching this time. After mere seconds a giant creature with too many spine-covered limbs came barrelling through the undergrowth. Both rolled away and began attacking.

The whatever-it-was (there were far too many types of monsters in this place, how did anyone keep track of them all?) was no push over and kept both of them on their toes. Only Hawkes lightning fast shield casting and Genesis’ frankly ridiculous reaction speed kept them from getting pummelled. Eventually though the two of them did manage to grasp the upper hand. A good deal of stabbing and burning and electrocuting later, the creature began to weaken. With a little more breathing room now, Hawke spoke again.

“This thing reminds me of the Varteral. It’s a giant undying mantis thing. I’ve killed it twice already. I wonder if it’ll be up and kicking again by the time I get back to Kirkwall.” she said, holding up a shield spell as one of the monster’s limbs stabbed at her. Genesis sliced another of the limbs clean off.

“My friend, do you fly away now, to a world that abhors you and I?” he quoted, beginning to sound frustrated. “Why do you want to go back to Thedas at all? You said it yourself; you’re an apostate, a second class citizen guilty of ‘existing without permission’.” he said between taking stabs at the creature and parrying the return jabs. “Why would you want to return to that?”

"I’ve built a life there.” _A life that was torn to pieces alongside the chantry_ , her traitorous mind whispered. “It’s my home, I belong there.”

“It doesn’t want you.” he said, glancing at her from the corner of his eye.

“No world wants me, Genesis.” she said with a cold smile as she stabbed the creature in the back. “I’m not waiting for an invitation.”

“Gaia isn’t entirely opposed to your presence.” he said airily. She snorted, rolling out of the way of an attack.

“Gaia doesn’t know what it’s getting itself into.”

“And if you can’t go back?” he asked. Hawke stilled suddenly, her expression closed off.

She made a grasping motion with her hand; a giant ethereal gauntlet appeared over the monster, completely encasing one of its shoulders in a huge glowing fist. The monster struggled, trapped and confused. Hawke gestured with her other hand and a second glowing gauntlet appeared, seizing the monster’s other arm in time with her movements. With a mighty tug the creature was torn completely in two.

The gauntlets faded away, leaving the shredded remains of the monster spilled over the ground. Genesis stared at her. She didn’t often use that attack. It was exhausting and took a lot of build-up, but she couldn’t deny how satisfying it was. Brutally tearing something apart could be very cathartic.

“That’s an impressive limit break.” Genesis said, sheathing his sword. A polite cough drew their attention.

Standing calmly behind them was a tall black haired SOLDIER with a massive slab of a sword on his back. He was giving them both a reprimanding look.

“Afternoon, Angeal. What can we do for you?” asked Genesis, casually flicking his hair out of his face. Around them the simulation ended and disintegrated back into bland metal walls.

“I was looking for you Genesis.” Angeal said in a neutral tone. “I’m not interrupting something, am I?” he looked at Hawke curiously.

“Training.” Genesis said dismissively.

“I see.” their visitor crossed his arms. “You do know of course that this area is restricted to SOLDIER members only?”

“She’s here with my permission.”

“Oh is that how that policy works?” Angeal asked in a dry tone.

“Did you need something Angeal?” Genesis said pointedly.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to train, but I can see you’re busy. I’ll let you and Miss…?”

“Hawke.” she smiled at him.

“Miss Hawke, I’ll let the two of get back to it. Try not to blow up another training room Genesis.”

 

* * *

 

Sephiroth stood in Angeal’s office, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Angeal was studiously watching a recording of Genesis fighting a monster simulation in the VR room.

“Angeal, are you _spying_ on Genesis?” Surely not. Angeal was honest and straight forward. Genesis was the crafty one. Wasn’t spying on a friend dishonourable?

Angeal looked up, apparently only just realising what he was doing. “I suppose I am. That woman used an attack I wanted to see.”

“There are no female SOLDIERs.” Sephiroth said after a pause, shelving his friend’s unusual behaviour for later consideration.

“She calls herself Hawke, apparently. I’ve no idea who she is.” Angeal said, looking back to the screen, a puzzled look on his face. “Genesis was fighting with her in the training room.”

“That’s a breach of protocol.” Hardly unusual for Genesis. Fighting with someone outside of the three of them however, was highly unusual. There were very few people Genesis associated with intentionally and he made no secret of it. That he would deign to fight alongside someone who wasn’t even a SOLDIER was unheard of.

“You know Genesis only cares for rules when it’s someone else breaking them.” Angeal said offhandedly. Curious as to what brought about such unprecedented behaviour in his two fellow SOLDIERs; Sephiroth stood next to Angeal and watched the screen.

“Her technique’s good.” he said, watching the monochrome figures dance back and forth around their opponent.

“She’s quick too.” said Angeal.

“Regardless, I don’t see why we’re watching this.” A woman with a wealth of materia, it was hardly life changing.

“Hang on there’s a limit break that- there it is.” They watched as the black and white recording of Hawke conjured up the two ethereal gauntlets and ripped the monster apart on strength of will alone. The recording ended and both stood in silence.

What on Gaia was that? He didn’t recognize the limit break, or anything it might be based on. Sephiroth had fought more battles then he cared to recall but that attack was completely unfamiliar to him. He could direct energy through his mastered materia with the best of them but this was something else entirely. If he hadn't just witnessed it he would have said it was impossible. 

“What materia could possibly do that?” he asked, voicing his thoughts.

“A Summon perhaps?” Angeal said, sounding equally baffled.

“Two disembodied arms? Unlikely.” Summons were creatures, foreign ones admittedly, but living beings none the less.

“Either way I think that might explain why Genesis dragged a civilian into the training rooms of all places.”

“You think she’s some sort of materia expert?”

“You could say that.” an amused voice spoke from behind them. They both turned to find a smirking Genesis leaning against the door frame.

“Genesis.” Sephiroth greeted.

“Finished spying?” he asked cordially.

“Finished flaunting security protocols?” asked Angeal.

“She could be a spy for all we know.” said Sephiroth.

“She’s not a spy.” Genesis said with a roll of his eyes, “What do you take me for?”

“Then who is she?”

“Hero of the dawn, Healer of worlds.” He said grandly. At the dead pan looks they sent him he elaborated, “She’s a friend.”

“And you snuck her into the VR room because..?”

“It was hardly sneaking. We walked through the corridors and opened the door.”

“So that’s what all the third classes were gossiping about.” said Angeal, rubbing his temple.

“You didn’t answer the question.” Sephiroth said.

“As you said, she’s a materia expert. We were comparing techniques.”

“What was that limit break she used?” Sephiroth asked. He trusted Genesis and sneaking into the VR rooms was practically routine; but now he was curious.

“You mean you don’t know, General?” Genesis drawled with a raised eyebrow.

“Do you?” he said with his arms crossed.

“Infinite in mystery is the gift of the goddess.” Genesis said with a smirk. “Now, I believe we have a mission to plan?”

Knowing they’d get nothing more out of him, they discussed Angeal and Genesis’ upcoming mission to rocket town. It was mundane and undemanding work; Sephiroth found his thoughts drawn to the mystery he had been presented with. The more he thought about it, the more out of place that limit break seemed. It hadn’t appeared to be sourced from any of her equipment, just solidified energy abruptly forming in the air and following her commands. Materia channelled mana into particular elements and abilities, how you wielded it was entirely a matter of control. The level of control required to force the resulting magic into a specific shape was immense. What materia could create and control a solid object?

A few months ago, Genesis had mentioned materia free magic. Had he discovered something? Genesis hadn’t spoken of it since, but then he was also fond of unnecessary secrecy. The man had been a collection of secrets all year. It started with the wound that couldn’t be cured by materia, the wound that disappeared without explanation. Now this, a magical attack that defied everything he knew about the use of materia.

Sephiroth was connecting the pieces.

 

* * *

 

“Here’s your usual, Hawke.” said the bartender, plonking her pint down with a crooked smile.

“Thanks, Karen.” Hawke said, wondering when she had become a ‘usual’.

The Fat Chocobo was a quiet tonight leaving her to sit and stew over her watery beer in peace. She was feeling the ache of overworked muscles and the mental strain of rapid-fire casting from the previous day’s romp through Shinra’s virtual playground. She sighed in contentment, taking a generous sip. Reno hadn’t arrived yet, he might not show up at all. If nothing else the Turk was consistently inconsistent.

On quiet evenings Hawke would sometimes join the ongoing poker game happening upstairs, or she might bother the other regulars. Perhaps tonight she’d just sit and enjoy the peace and quiet-

“I’m here, I’m here, nobody panic.” Reno slid onto the chair next to her.

“Oh thank the Maker." Hawke said with a yawn "I was going spare with worry.”

The barkeeper returned to take Reno’s order and delivered a strict warning about behaving himself and the thorough beating he would receive if he didn’t.

“Shesh, you start one little bar fight and suddenly everyone’s getting all touchy.” he said with a sigh.

“You’re lucky they let you back in at all.” She said. The only reason she had never been kicked out of the Hanged Man was because she and her friends brought so much revenue. Corf had definitely threatened often enough though.

“So,” Reno began with a smirk that had Hawke wondering if she should be mapping out the exits “how was the VR room?”

Word obviously got around quickly. Reno was an accomplished gossip so she couldn’t be too surprised, not that she’d been particularly subtle in the first place.

“Fabulous. Why do you ask?” she said.

“You really don’t know how to lay low do you?” he said with a crooked grin.

“Sure I do. But even I get bored sometimes.” always, in fact. How she’d lasted this long as a reasonably normal civilian she had no idea.

“Fair enough.” he said. “Didn’t know that you and Rhapsodos were friends.” he took a chug of his freshly opened beer.

“Eh, sometimes we get together and kill things. You know how it is.” she said.

“Heh, the best kind of friendship.” he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and gave her a calculating look. “Hey, a piece of advice.” he said with a slightly more serious expression, “I wouldn’t go leaving your little friend all on her own these days. Midgar’s just crawling with nasties.”

“I don’t need to go Holidaying again do I?” Hawke asked, supressing a sigh. She didn’t have enough money saved up for another trip to Junon.

“Na, but maybe don’t go sneaking into the Shinra building either.”

“Oh fine.” she sighed dramatically. “But it’ll be your fault if I have to resort to acts of petty larceny for amusement.” He was probably right, it drew too much attention. Such a shame, she had quite the taste for slaying monsters.

 

 


	13. Playing with Fire

Hawke sat lazily against the curving Banora white tree. She always sat under this one, it was the most comfortable.

She was becoming very familiar with this corner of the fade. It no longer seemed odd that the air was green. The red earth seemed perfectly regular, even the trees that didn’t know which way was up had a comfortable familiarity to them. The revelation that this was normal however was in fact very uncomfortable. So she chose not to think about it.

She fiddled with the phone she had been coerced into buying. Elmyra had insisted that it was a necessity, despite the fact that Hawke had no idea what she was supposed to do with it. She wasn’t sure if the Fade representation of the device was accurate but it hardly mattered since she could barely use the thing anyway.

Genesis meanwhile, was pacing under the canopy provided by the trees. She had asked how the search into his cure was going and received a sigh and a recital for her trouble. No breakthroughs so far then, if she was interpreting ‘Pride is lost, wings stripped away, the end is nigh’ correctly. She was going to have that blighted poem memorized fairly quickly at this rate.

“What exactly do you do, Genesis?” she asked in the peaceful silence. It was probably a silly question but everyone said ‘SOLDIER’ like it meant something. There were so many things she was assumed to have understood that still made very little sense to her.

“I’m a SOLDIER.” He said, giving her an odd look. “I thought you’d noticed.”

“Yes but what does a SOLDIER _do_? It’s not just a regular army is it? I’ve heard a lot about SOLDIER honour and being a hero but that’s not terribly specific.” she was pretty sure ‘hero’ wasn’t actually a job title.

“We are the elite; we fight Shinra’s wars for them. In peace time we protect people by keeping the monster populations in check.”

“What is with all the monsters here? There are so many of them, and they’re all so bizarre. Half of them seem almost unnatural.”

“That’s because they’re not natural. Monsters are creatures corrupted by mako. They thrive wherever there are reactors or natural springs.” He shook his head and laughed bitterly. “Just like SOLDIERs, they are strengthened and twisted by the mako flowing through them. We are monsters, created to kill other monsters.”

Had she met him a few years ago she‘d have told him he wasn’t a monster. She would have insisted that what Shinra had done didn’t change who he was. She was no longer so naïve. Painful as it was, he did have something monstrous growing inside of him and neither of them knew exactly how that was going to manifest itself. She hoped he wouldn’t be overcome by whatever it was but she couldn’t bring herself to believe it. This road was both foreign and yet far too familiar.

“SOLDIER sounds a lot like the Grey Wardens.” she said, hoping for at least a slight deviation in subject.

“The order your brother joined?” he asked, looking contemplative.

“Yes. Infected with the blight, they’re the only ones who can combat it. They give their lives to fight a threat the rest of us could never stand up against. Heroes, one and all.” and she couldn’t have been prouder.

“Doomed Heroes. My friend, the fates are cruel.” he said, with a bitter smile.

“That’s why they’re heroes.” she said simply. “There’s nothing particularly heroic in fighting something that can’t hurt you. That’s just pest control.”

“Shinra would disagree.” he said with a laugh, “Haven’t you heard? Shinra’s greatest hero, the mighty General Sephiroth, is both untouchable and infallible.”

“Shinra can go die of lyrium poisoning. Nobody is infallible.”

“Clearly you’re not from Gaia.” he said dryly. “Speaking of Sephiroth, he and Angeal were highly intrigued by your limit break the other day.”

“Ah. They saw that, huh?” she said nervously. She wouldn’t have done it had she known they had an audience.

“They wanted to know how you do it.”

“I just think about it really hard.” Genesis gave her an intent look.

“Without materia, mana is unstructured. How do you give it shape on your own?” he asked, clearly very curious.

“Bring your friends around some time and I’ll be happy to explain it to them.” she said leaning back against the tree. The exasperated look on his face had her smiling like the trouble maker she was.

“Did you want something Genesis?” she asked pleasantly.

He scowled at her. She smirked.

“Fine.” he said petulantly. “Would you please show me how to cast without using materia, oh kind and gracious Hawke?” he asked in a biting tone.

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” she said, getting to her feet. “So how long have you been trying to figure this out on your own?” she asked with a grin.

“How do you know I’m even capable of doing this?” he said, ignoring her question entirely.

“Because you’re here. Though how it is that you’re here, I honestly don’t know.”

“How am I dreaming?” he said slowly, clearly not understanding.

“Everyone dreams, but only mages enter the fade when we sleep because we’re inherently connected to it. Materia, from what I gather at least, create an artificial connection to the fade so that anyone can wield it. You don’t need materia because you’re already connected. For all intents and purposes, you are the materia. Sort of.”

“I see.” he said, looking thoughtful. It hadn’t taken her long to realise that people weren’t exaggerating when they said he was a materia expert. And unlike her very instinctual understanding of magic, he was very well versed in the theory and was liable to give lectures if given half a chance.

“That still leaves the magic raw and unformed however.” he said.

“That part is instinctive. It has to be felt; I don’t know that words can quite encapsulate it.”

“Then show me.” he said plainly.

“Alright.” she said, stretching her fingers as she thought of how to go about it. Aerith had already been throwing magic about, albeit subconsciously, when she met her so they had skipped this step. She began to unbuckling her gauntlet and pulling off her gloves, gesturing for him to do the same. She would show him how to form his raw mana just as her father had shown her.

“What element shall we start with?”

“Fire, obviously.” he said, removing his gloves and tucking them into a pocket.

“Fire it is then. Because we’re already in the fade it’ll be far easier here than it would when you’re awake. Though be warned, I don’t have much control with fire here so I hope you pick this up quickly.”

“And if I don’t pick it up quickly?” he asked with a quirk of his brow.

“Then you’ll probably end up on fire.” She approached and stood in front of him.

She gestured for him to give her his hand. He complied, looking at her intently. She held his right hand in her own, both of their palms facing up. She looked into his eyes as her mana starting prodding at him, wondering what he would be capable of. This was something you could only do in the fade; with no physical barriers to impede it your mana could flitter about however you wanted.

“This isn’t going to work if you keep your mana so tightly leashed.” she said. Her energy poked at his, feeling it banked up but also locked down. That just wouldn’t do.

She let her mana flow up over both of their hands, making it condense in his palm. She heard his sharp intake of breath at the feeling. Sensing someone else’s mana usually meant you were under attack. It spoke volumes that he trusted her enough to let her do this.

With conscious effort she slowed down the process as she twisted the strands of energy into a flame. A small flickering ball of fire burst into life in their palms, the red light dancing across their faces. Still looking him in the eye she could feel his mana beginning to reach out and poke at the fire experimentally, his expression openly fascinated. It brought a smile to her face.

She let her own energy entwine with his as she built the up the little flare. The fire grew hotter and more intense as his own natural affinity for the element had him instinctively feeding the flames. He really did have a gift for this; she could feel the fire responding eagerly to his energy, growing into a consuming power that would leave nothing unscathed. If they weren’t careful it would escape all control. The once tiny spark was now a furious little inferno pulsating with energy and craving more, always more, trying to draw them in and set the world alight. He wore an exhilarated smile that matched the gleam in his eyes. The air was taught with energy, she couldn’t tell where hers ended and his started. The maelstrom of building mana had her hair standing on end and the wild and dangerous side of her wanting to conjure up lightning bolts. With a small push she sent the fireball rocketing up to explode in the canopy overhead.

Both staggered back in shock at the massive release of energy. Sparks and leaves rained down around them. The tension broken; her thoughts were left thoroughly unhinged. They were still staring at each other.

“And that is how you start a wildfire.”

 

* * *

 

Hawke strolled through the slums on her way to the church.

Aerith walked next to her, smiling brightly through the morning gloom. The novelty of carrying her own staff clearly hadn’t worn off yet as she was swinging it around gleefully. Hawke wondered how many times the girl would have to trip herself up with it before she resorted to carrying it on her back. She was betting twice more at this rate.

They picked their way along the now very familiar route and Hawke found her mind recalling her last foray into the Fade. Her impromptu magic lesson with Genesis hadn’t progressed much further than setting the trees on fire. After that she had been rather unfocused. She told herself it was the heat from the burning apple trees that had her flushed. Genesis had been equally distracted, occasionally glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. His eyes were a very striking blue; she wondered that she didn’t notice it beforehand.

Afterwards, at his insistence she’d tried to teach him a simply healing spell but he had been hopeless at it. It seemed that materia made casting easier across the board, if less powerful in general. Casting from scratch required a lot more mana per spell as well as greater understanding of the techniques needed to shape each specific attack. He took the failure with a determined look that said this was by no means over.

Aerith on the other hand was flourishing. The addition of a staff made her healing practically unparalleled. While she still lacked stamina she had finally figured out how to build a simple shield spell without spending half the afternoon in concentration. It was a highly celebrated breakthrough.

As a fade shaper, Aerith was slowly discovering her ability to enter the fade at will. Not a particularly useful skill under the circumstances, but something Hawke believed she ought to have control over nonetheless.

Hawke found herself feeling unusually scholarly. She wasn’t used to people considering her some kind of magical expert. While she had always been able to dish out untold destruction and years of practise made her a mage to be reckoned with, she hardly considered herself an authority on the subject. Anders had always been the scholar, and Merrill was the one you went to for knowledge on forms of magic not taught in the circle. Hawke brought explosions, not understanding. It was almost surreal, having Aerith and Genesis, two clearly very powerful mages, coming to her for advice.

The church came into view; they could see Reno lounging lazily outside while having a smoke. Any pretence of professionalism on his part had long since been dropped.

They were climbing the stairs when a loud and obnoxious ringing noise blared out. It took Hawke a good few seconds to realise it was coming from her. Her newest gadget was screaming out like the world was ending. Scrambling through her pockets she found the phone and flipped it open with a scornful glare at the offending device.

“What?” She said into it, recalling belatedly that there was probably some sort of protocol for answering a phone.

“Hawke? This is Genesis, I need your help.” he sounded more anxious then she had ever heard him.

“What’s going on? Where are you?” she said, hand instinctively reaching for her staff. That he so readily admitted to needing help meant it wasn’t something trivial.

“I’m in Rocket town, Angeal’s been wounded and I can’t heal him.” His voice took on the stern emotionless tone of a commander, falling back on military efficiency. “He’s going to bleed out at this rate.”

“Where do I go? What do you need me to do?” She had never heard of Rocket town, if it was close then maybe she could-

“It’s on the next continent; I need you to heal him. There’s very little time.”

“How am I supposed to get to the next continent? Dammit, I don’t think I can just up and leave, Genesis.”

He swore, anxiety bleeding back into his voice.

“Are you leaving Hawke?” Aerith asked looking quite concerned.

“Wouldn’t recommend that Babe.” Reno said, the both of them clearly eavesdropping on at least her half of the conversation.

“Genesis, I can’t leave Aerith on her own,” she said, watching Reno nod in agreement, “According to Reno at least, it’s not safe for her here.”

“What does Reno have to do with it?” he asked, bafflement intruding on his frustration.

“We’re under official surveillance.” Hawke said, rubbing her forehead. She wanted to help Genesis’ friend. Someone was dying and she could help him, but if she left and Aerith disappeared into Shinra’s labs she would never forgive herself.

There was a pause on the other side of the call.

“Give him the phone.” Genesis said in a steely tone. It wasn’t a question.

“Reno, it’s for you.” she said, handing it over. She had no idea what exactly he intended or what sort of office politics were coming into play, but the SOLDIER clearly wasn’t just going to sit and watch his friend die. She could sympathise.

“Heya Rhapsodos, so you and Hawke-” started Reno in his casual drawl before being interrupted.

“…Hey I don’t take orders from you, slick.” he said, clearly not impressed with whatever Genesis was saying. 

“…try it, SOLDIER, see what happens-” he paused, his expression going from irritated to considering, “…how much?”

“…I’ll do it for double. …Wow, you really are desperate, what’s going on? …Pfft whatever. Yeah I can take the both of them. And you’d better talk to Tseng because I aint losing my job for you. …Fine, but you damn well owe me.”

He snapped the phone shut and threw it back to Hawke. Both women looked at him, Hawke expectant and Aerith baffled.

“Who wants to ride in a helicopter and piss Shinra right the hell off?” Reno asked with a grin that didn’t fit the situation.

“What’s going on Hawke?” Aerith asked, both very concerned and completely lost.

“How do you think your mother will feel about us visiting Rocket town Aerith?”

 

* * *

 

A few hours earlier…

“I can’t believe they sent us all the way out here for such pointless busywork.” Genesis said in a long suffering tone. He and Angeal were in Rocket town for what he was convinced was just petty posturing on Shinra’s part. A cursory look into the towns official projects and then photo opportunities, it was all the PR department’s fault no doubt. Then the locals had made mention of the dragons sighted in the foothills.

“You know what the higher ups are like.” said Angeal, taking his friends whining in stride. “They’ll never waste an opportunity to show us off. You’re just lucky there’s something for us to fight.” The two of them were hunting the creatures down before they could become a problem to the little industrial town. Currently half way up the mountain where the nesting spot was said to be, Genesis glanced back at his childhood friend.

“Are you sure you’re feeling up to this? Dragons can be very dangerous, especially if they should be mutated.”

Angeal looked at him like he’d grown a second head.

“Of course I’m feeling up to it. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You have spent a lot of time getting checked up by Hollander lately.” he said in a carefully neutral tone. The degradation had probably only just kicked in, but neither had spoken of it. It hung over them awkwardly, defying either of them to bring it up.

“It’s fine.” Angeal said, in a voice that declared the subject dropped. Deciding to take his word for it, Genesis changed the subject. Angeal was just as much an experienced First Class as himself, there was no reason to make it more of an issue then it had to be.

“How many dragons do you think will be at the nest?”

“A small pack, going by the reports. I hope you brought your ice materia.”

“It’s called a murder of dragons, Angeal.” he said with a smile. Actually, wasn’t this exactly what ‘doctor’ Hawke had been instructing him not to do? But then she had been joking so it was irrelevant. Not to mention, she didn’t know just how much a SOLDIER First Class was capable of, let alone two of them. There was nothing to worry about.

They reached the nest. There were three dragons, two smaller females and a massive bull dragon.

Hawke hadn’t been kidding when she said casting was easier in the fade. He might have nearly burned down an orchard there but here he could accomplish little more than a low level fire spell, which would be useless against dragons anyway. Compared to his mastered materia it didn’t even register.

Not inclined to take visitors, the dragons attacked as soon as they noticed the two SOLDIERs. The giant lizards were not easy kills. It didn’t take long for Angeal to draw his buster sword.

The smaller female dragon fell to one of Angeal’s limit breaks. The second was a quick and lithe green dragon that had them dancing out of that way of its vicious claws, but Genesis ultimately cut it down. Both were focusing on Ice spells to combat the fire breathers, it wasn’t his favourite way to fight but he was no less capable for it.

He looked up to see the bull swinging its powerful tail at them. They both dodged and got in position to corner it.

At least, Genesis got in position, expecting Angeal to do the same. It was a formation they had used against many dragons over the years; he was confused when saw Angeal hanging back. The bull shouldn’t be a problem against the two of them, but now he could see Angeal was flagging. Had the degradation sapped so much of his strength already? This was too soon; it shouldn’t have progressed so far so quickly!

Angeal leapt back, narrowly avoiding a torrent of flames. Shaking his head and muttering under his breath; he pulled out a glowing red materia.

“That might not be wise, Angeal.” Genesis called out after dodging the dragon’s claw. He jumped up and slashed at the nearest wing. Now that he knew there was no guarantee with Summons he was loath to use them. This fight was hardly lost, just a more of a trial then it should have been.

“I can’t believe you lost this one, Genesis.” Angeal called, apparently not having heard him. “You’re lucky it was me that found it.”

The words registered and Genesis’s head snapped around to face his friend. A dreadful suspicion filled him, but surely fate wasn’t that cruel.

“Angeal-”

“Shiva!” Angeal called out.

Genesis swore. A swipe at the dragon’s belly had it rearing up and taking to the skies. In the brief pause before it flew around again to rain fire upon them, familiar blue runes glowed around the upheld materia followed by a flash of light.

Suddenly Shiva stood proudly in the late afternoon sun. Her blue skin glistened as did the silver spear she held. She was staring straight at Genesis, a vicious grin on her face.

“Hello little soldier.”

 


	14. Desperation

Hawke looked out the window of the helicopter.

Indistinct scenery sped past far below, the shrouded moon doing very little to illuminate the night. Despite the circumstances Hawke had been fascinated by the flying contraption and just as giddy as Aerith at the prospect of riding in it, though she had done a better job of hiding it.

To Aerith she had told what little she knew of the situation: someone was hurt and Hawke was needed to heal them. Somehow the girl had realised the injured party was Angeal, the mentor who Zack was always going on about. She immediately offered her help. Hawke didn’t know if the Cetra’s magic would work or not but she immediately accepted the offer anyway.

After Genesis’ call they had moved quickly to get to Rocket town as soon as possible. She didn’t know what strings Genesis had pulled to get Reno to be so obliging but the cocky Turk clearly thought he was getting the better end of the deal. From the sounds of it he was also just glad to be flying instead of watching a boring church half the day.

Elmyra, however, had been less pleased. As much as she had come to trust Hawke, sending her teenage daughter off to the other side of the planet at a moment’s notice for reasons that couldn’t be fully explained was not a scheme that won her approval. Hawke had eventually convinced her it was for the best. She was going to Rocket town and the Turks said it wasn’t safe for Aerith to remain on her own; either Aerith came as well or risked Shinra taking her. Hawke had the distinct feeling Elmyra would be giving her a piece of her mind when they returned.

Reno said they would be arriving soon.

Aerith was looking anxious and wringing her hands, apparently the planet was uneasy. Hawke certainly was. Genesis was asking her to save the life of his best friend. Under any other circumstances she would have been irritated at being summoned so brusquely, but as it was she was just surprised he’d held it together so well. The day a stray poisoned arrow had hit Varric in the shoulder stood out in her memories. She’d damn near trampled people in her rush to get him to Ander’s clinic.

She had promised Genesis her help, and she would do whatever she could to provide it. Hopefully it would be enough. Her magic might be the only force on this planet that could help, but she was still no healer. Admittedly her restorative skills had improved over the last few months, but could she bring someone back from the brink of death? She hoped it wasn’t too late already. It had taken half the day just to reach them.

At her side she had a bag full of ether potions. Not quite as effective for restoring mana as lyrium but they got the job done. She had been hoarding them since she arrived and so far had barely used any of the ever growing stash. She suspected the bag was about to become a good deal lighter.

The shapes of buildings could be seen below them now. Reno landed the helicopter with minimal fuss right at the town’s entrance (that he could pilot it at all had Hawke re-evaluating her opinion of him).

“Alright,” he said into the microphone attached to the head sets they were all wearing “You’re looking for the inn, third building on the right.”

“Thanks Reno.” she said, unbuckling her seat belt and trying to figure out how the door worked.

They got out and Reno flew away after giving them a warning about remembering to lay low. She doubted they’d have time to do anything else.

They found the inn, the only building with its lights still on.

“Upstairs, first on the left.” said an exhausted looking desk clerk the moment they entered. “He’s waiting for you.”

They found the room and were greeted by a pacing Genesis.

“Hawke, finally.” he said, running a hand through his hair and sounding as relieved as he did agitated. The room smelt like blood.

“Where is he, how bad is it?” she said, getting straight to business. Aerith stood meekly behind her.

“Through here. I’ve bandaged his wounds but it hasn’t stopped the bleeding.” he said, leading them into the room.

The man lying unconscious on the bed was barely recognizable. She may have only met Angeal briefly that day in the VR room but it was enough to see he was a fit and healthy warrior in his late twenties. The man lying on the bed looked at least 20 years older. Along with a host of wounds that were bleeding through their bandages, he was pale with discoloured veins bulging along his skin. His once black hair was shot with grey. Hawke hoped the Maker was listening because this was utterly beyond her meagre skill. Her gut told her it was beyond anyone’s skill.

She’d do what she could anyway.

“What happened?” she asked, checking the three large gashes running across his chest.

“Dragons.” he said simply, “…and Shiva.” he finished with a bitter voice.

Hawke stilled at that, before refocusing. She could worry about Xebenkeck later. Going by the size of the wounds, the dragons must have been massive. It was a miracle the man was still breathing.

“Aerith, I’m going to need your help healing this.” she said, adjusting the lamps standing by the bed.

“You know materia doesn’t do anything.” Genesis said, looking between her and Aerith. “He doesn’t have time for us to waste Hawke.”

“Trust me on this. Aerith?” She would apologise to the girl for dragging her into this later. Right now there was work to be done. The teenager rolled up her sleeves and stood at the bed across from Hawke, holding her staff nervously.

“I’m here.” She had a determined look on her face, but she was clearly feeling out of her depth. “This is more than anything I’ve done before Hawke.”

“You’re a healer Aerith.” she said taking the girl’s hand and held it over a gruesome cut on his arm, “Just focus on stopping the bleeding alright? One wound at a time. Let me take care of the rest.” Aerith nodded and closed her eyes.

The familiar green light of healing started to glow over his arm. Hawke prayed that it would work; Aerith was a very gifted healer, without her help Angeal didn’t stand a chance.

Aerith tilted her head in confusion. The cut shrunk and the bleeding slowed, but the wound didn’t close. Normally Aerith would have been able to heal a cut twice the size with barely any effort. Still, it was better than nothing and Hawke would make the absolute most of it.

Genesis was looking at the girl intently, before shaking his head and focusing on his unconscious friend again.

“Why is it so hard? That should have fixed it.” Aerith said, looking to Hawke for answers.

“Do what you have to Aerith; though stay focused on the superficial wounds for now.” Hawke said, side stepping the question. Hawke focused on the gashes across his torso. Calling on all the techniques Anders had taught her while they worked together in his clinic, she starting casting healing spells.

As her magic sank into him she wanted to stagger back, the corruption was so much stronger in him then it had been in Genesis. It wasn’t content to watch her patch him up either, it retaliated viciously, bombarding her mind with echoes of pain and agony. She was glad Aerith was working on the man’s extremities; she wouldn’t be as affected by it. Every inch of progress was a desperate struggle and a hard won fight. She was burning through her mana rapidly.

The next few hours were spent in tense silence. The two women worked on with single minded determination. They slowly made progress. The bag of ethers steadily emptied.

Angeal would occasionally groan, or reach out blindly but never fully regained consciousness.

Eventually Aerith hit her breaking point. She stumbled back with tears in her eyes, leaning heavily on her staff.

“It’s breaking him, Hawke” she said in sorrow, perspiration running down her face. “I don’t know how to stop it, it’s… it won’t let go.” she shook her head, looking to Hawke for guidance.

“I know Aerith.” she said quietly. “Here, sit down. I’ll take it from here.”

The girl had clearly hit mental exhaustion and sat down heavily. She was passed out on the couch not moments later.

Aerith might be an impressive healer but she didn’t yet know how to face down things so sinister; that took a strength born of experience that Hawke specialized in. This wasn’t so much healing as it was weathering an assault. Whatever was causing this corruption was alive and vicious and not about to relinquish its hold. Hawke couldn’t kill it, or even truly dislodge it, but with enough desperate casting she could beat it into weakening its grip. Anything to buy him more time.

“Genesis.” she started, while taking a breath to recoup some of her mana. “The corruption, do you know what it is?” she asked, wiping sweat from her brow. “What did they inject you with? It’s not mako, this is alive and it’s crushing him in its grip. It’s so much stronger now than it felt in you.”

He looked pensive, though he didn’t look up from where he was changing Angeal’s bandages.

“Jenova cells, I believe. DNA from a creature excavated from…” he paused, his brow drawn down in confusion. “What do you mean it’s alive?”

“It’s alive. It isn’t just a condition or sped up aging, this thing is aware and responsive. That’s why this is so exhausting, it doesn’t want to let go of him.” It truly did rival the blight in that. What was this jenova?

“I see.” he said quietly. He continued his work. When the store of ethers finally ran dry, Hawke’s mana reserves eventually drained to the dregs and she was forced to take a break. She left to wash some of the blood off her hands and try to wake herself up a little.

 

* * *

 

Genesis sat with his head in his hands in the silent, blood splattered room.

Angeal groaned.

“Genesis?” he said weakly, his eyes barely open.

“Angeal!” Genesis was at his friend’s side immediately, his hand scrunching in the blood drenched blankets. The black haired soldier’s eyes were glazed and sunken.

“I’m dying aren’t I?” he sounded resigned.

“Not yet.” Genesis said sternly.

“Liar.” he said with a weak smile. “Killed by my own Summon. Sounds like something Zack would do.”

“You can’t die yet Angeal.” Genesis said, trying to keep the anguish out of his voice. “You promised the puppy you’d be there for his promotion. Dying now would be dishonourable.”

“I suppose it is.” said Angeal. He sighed. “Genesis, you’ve always been my brother. If this is it-”

“No. Don’t you dare say goodbye, Angeal.” he interrupted, in a voice that was much begging as it was commanding. “You are not dying tonight, do you hear me SOLDIER?”

Angeal fell back into oblivion before he could respond.

 

* * *

 

The night drew to a close and the sun started peaking in through the gap in the curtains.

Hawke kept casting, pouring as much healing as she could into him. She’d never cast the same basic healing spell so many times before. Genesis alternated between handing her ethers whenever needed, and sitting with his head in his hands, quietly mumbling prayers. His expression had changed from deep anguish to completely closed off. Despite how clearly exhausted he was he wouldn’t relinquish his vigil.

“That’s all I can do.” Hawke said finally, collapsing on the couch. She had no idea what time it was, she barely even knew where they were. Such dedicated focus on casting had left her utterly drained. Black splotches were intruding on the edges of her vision.

“He’s stabilized at least.” she said. He wasn’t dead, but chances were he wouldn’t be waking up again either. It sounded like a defeat to her ears.

“I can’t force the corruption back any more than that.” Genesis sat on the other side of the couch, hunched over with his elbows on his knees. He hadn’t said anything in hours. His eyes still focused on Angeal.

“How long does he have?” he asked in an empty tone.

“Weeks probably.” she said bleakly. “A couple of months if he’s lucky.”

Silence reigned in the cold room. The birds chirping outside and the cheery morning light seemed almost offensive, an over-bright mockery of the despair filled moment.

“I don’t how to fix him Hawke.” he said, sounding so broken. “My brother is dying and I don’t know how to fix it.”

Hawke looked down at drying blood now staining the carpet.

She wished she had any comfort to give.


	15. Manifestation

Genesis slept restlessly. They hadn’t left the hotel room in Rocket town; the three exhausted mages were sprawled out on the couches around a comatose Angeal.

Not quite in the fade, his mind replayed images of Angeal being struck down by the dragon, the mocking laughter of Shiva as she threw her icy spears. He felt the phantom of searing pain from a shoulder wound long healed. He tossed and turned in anguish, trying to escape his own mind.

His eyes snapped open. He was alone in the room, late afternoon sun streamed in through the curtains but he barely noticed. All he knew was pain, his back screaming out in agony. Had he been stabbed? He staggered to his feet. It felt like there was something tearing through the muscles of his left shoulder, threatening to break out and leave him in tatters. What was happening? He could barely stay standing, the pain almost driving him to his knees.

The muscles on his back stretched and constricted in ways that were utterly foreign. There was a harsh ripping sound and the agony exploded. He felt like he was being ripped in two. His vision blacked out for a moment and all his mind could supply was a feeling of wrongness. He collapsed in pain, a strange weight dragging him down. What was wrong with him? There were black feathers everywhere.

He looked over his shoulder and froze in uncomprehending shock. Reaching up over him was a giant black wing. His thoughts stilled.

He felt trapped and numb, unable to make sense of the feathered limb. He ran a hand along the appendage and shuddered when he felt it, the muscles in his back constricting and making the wing jerk.

_I have a wing._ Deep seated horror gripped him.

People didn’t have wings.

What did that make him?

Was he a monster now?

Someone said his name, it didn’t register.

He could hear the broken sounds of desperate breathing, unaware it was coming from him. His eyes were still rooted to the wing where it hung above him, adorned with blood and feathers.

His blood.

His feathers.

Tears might have been streaming down his face, he didn’t know.

Someone was holding him. Hawke, his mind absently noticed. Why wasn’t she running away? He was a monster, couldn’t she see that? He didn’t know when his own arms had wrapped around her, clutching onto her like a lifeline.

She was saying something his mind wasn’t hearing. Her arms remaining firmly wrapped around him. He found his head resting on her shoulder; two simple but devastating sentences echoing again and again in his head.

_I have a wing._

_I am a Monster._

He held her all the closer. He buried his face in the crook of her neck. He didn’t notice the wing reflexively wrapping around them both.

 

* * *

 

Hawke entered the town’s little café. She was buying food because she needed something to do, anything to distract herself from what had just happened.

She had returned from taking a relaxing stroll about the town only to find Genesis hyperventilating, a massive wing sprouting from his back. Concern for her friend overrode everything else and she immediately provided what comfort she could. She had held him for at least thirty minutes before he seemed to take notice and regain any semblance of control. Now, slightly distanced from the revelation, her mind was in turmoil.

Amidst his shocked mumbling she had heard him call himself a monster. She would have gone with abomination.

She couldn’t help the doubts flooding her mind; the wing was an extension of whatever entity Shinra had injected into him. It wasn’t natural, it was… something else. His body was being changed, would his mind follow? She wanted to believe he was stronger than that; he had lived his whole life with this entity, why would he cave now? It wasn’t his fault he had a wing (and who knew what else?) he could hardly be held accountable for it. She wanted to say that this changed nothing. He was her friend regardless of how many limbs he had; he was still the same person he had been yesterday.

The other half of her mind wasn’t so accepting. Her past was held up as evidence, a cautionary tale against being blinded to the true danger.

Anders had been her friend too.

She had always known Anders had a… passenger, though it looked to be a mostly benign one. She supported him however she could, she tried to anchor him to this world and not let the brooding Other within him define how she saw him. She had seen him as a friend and never a threat. Until the day he murdered everyone in the chantry and tore Kirkwall apart at the seams.

Was Genesis set on the same path? There was a malicious and cunning _something_ deep inside of him, and apparently it wasn’t content with just the degradation. Would it latch onto his mind? She had seen it before, manipulative spirits loved to use your own motivations used against you and twist you into their own image. Genesis had no lack of motivation. She knew he hated Shinra but given what they had done to him it was hardly unreasonable. Thinking of that black wing, violently jutting out of a human back, she realised she had vastly underestimated Shinra’s depravity. Going by Genesis’ shock, he had too.

As far as she was concerned the main question was whether or not Genesis was in fact in charge of himself, and if so, would it last? Was he possessed?

What should she do? What could she do?

She sifted through what she knew and what that might mean, looking for any kind of conclusion. Her eyes followed the trails of steam from the overpriced coffee in front of her. For all her contemplations she arrived at the same flawed decision she had with Anders.

Genesis was her friend. She would help however she could. To leave him feeling isolated or abandoned would not improve matters. And if he really was slipping, his mind slowly becoming someone else’s playground, then she would just have to deal with it at a later date. Her rebellious mind asked if that had helped the people Anders killed, but she ignored it. Anders had volunteered to merge with Justice, it was his decision and the blame lay with him. Genesis had no say in what had happened to him. For all her caution and past failures, Hawke could not bring herself to judge the man for things he _might_ do.

Crushing her doubts, she rose and started making her way back to the inn. Last she had heard Aerith was exploring the town and enjoying the sun. It was time to start considering the next step. Angeal’s condition had remained stable; she doubted he would be waking from his coma any time soon. They would have to return to Midgar.

She entered the inn and climbed the stairs. Outside the room she could hear the muffled sounds of an argument.

Opening the door she was met with the baffling sight of Genesis and Aerith pruning the newly discovered wing.

“Stop yanking on the feathers, it’s delicate!” Genesis said petulantly.

“I’m not yanking them; I’m trying to wash the dried blood off! Oh- stop twitching, you’re making it worse.” Aerith said, wiping a damp cloth across the feathers.

Hawke didn’t know what she had been expecting but that wasn’t it. Still, they were handling the situation rather well, previous melt downs aside.

“Hawke. Where did you run off to?” Genesis asked, looking cautious. Embarrassed perhaps?

“I went looking for food. I bring criminally overpriced sustenance.” she said, holding up the small bags of food. She caught the quick look of relief of Genesis’ face before it was covered by his usual haughty expression.

“I’ll take those.” said Aerith, taking the food and fleeing to the kitchen. Apparently she was slightly more unnerved than she wanted them to think.

With just Hawke and Genesis in the room a decidedly awkward silence descended. Hawke would have gladly ignored it but Genesis spoke.

“What happened earlier… thank you.” he said quietly, looking at her from the corner of his eye.

“Don’t mention it.”

“I thought perhaps I’d scarred you off.” he said in a light tone that failed to hide the sentiment beneath it.

“You’ll have to try a lot harder than that.” she said with a grin. “Though I’d prefer if you didn’t.”

“I’ll try not to sprout any more extraneous limbs then.” He said dryly.

“The cleaners are going to have a fit as it is.” The room was just littered in feathers and blood splatters. She softly cleared her throat. “How are you doing?” she asked cautiously.

“Admirably, given the circumstances.” he said with a sigh, eyeing the feathery elephant in the room. “Hollander did say there might be mutations eventually. I assumed he meant tumours.”

“Hollander?”

“The scientist who oversaw my… creation. One might say that this is his handiwork.” he ran his hand through the feathers, narrowing his eyes at it. His dark tone almost had her pitying the scientist.

Genesis seemed to snap out of his reverie.

“I called for medical-evac while you were gone.” he said, looking at Angeal’s still form.

“Returning to Midgar then?”

“Yes. They won’t arrive for another day at least, but this cursed mission is finally over.”

The rest of the time they had in Rocket town was spent in quiet isolation. Genesis somehow figured out how to retract his wing. With a good deal of concentration it had bent at the joint and then just faded away. The consensus was not to think about it too much. All questions from management about where the wealth of long black feathers came from were duly ignored.

As predicted Shinra’s medical teams arrived the next day. While the doctors and medics fretted over Angeal, Hawke and Aerith were bundled into a smaller far less conspicuous helicopter piloted by a nameless Turk. They were back in Midgar in less than a day.

 

* * *

 

“There is nothing the doctors can do.” Gensis said. “Angeal is dying.”

He and Sephiroth stood in the General’s office. Sephiroth stood next to the floor to ceiling window and Genesis leant against the back of one of the couches, arms crossed. As soon as they had arrived back in Midgar Angeal had disappeared into the medical ward and Genesis was faced with a General determined to have answers. They had both been kicked out of the infirmary and told to wait for news elsewhere. Genesis was supposed to be reporting back from his mission, though it had turned into more of an interrogation. He had expected no less, but that made it no easier.

After answering the cursory questions about the actual mission itself, the question of what happened to Angeal was immediately brought up. Genesis hadn’t wanted to discuss this with Sephiroth, with anyone really, but with Angeal in a coma it was unavoidable.

Sephiroth looked at him with narrowed eyes.

“How do you know they won’t be able to help him?”

“I’ve seen injuries like that before.” Genesis said in a carefully neutral voice.

“The wound on your shoulder.” The General said, watching Genesis intently. “But you found a solution.”

“That was-”

“Hawke.” Sephiroth said as though it were obvious.

“How did you know that?” he asked, slightly taken aback. They had never spoken of it.

“I am not a fool Genesis. I don’t care who she is, if her magic can somehow heal Angeal-”

“It can’t. She’s already tried. This is the best she could do.” he said, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice. She had filled him with hope, however unintentionally, and then failed to deliver. It wasn’t Hawke’s fault she wasn’t a healer, but a small part of Genesis blamed her anyway.

“What is wrong with him Genesis?” Sephiroth asked. He sounded almost lost, a soldier facing a problem that couldn’t be outmanoeuvred.

“I told you, we were attacked.” Genesis hedged.

“That doesn’t explain why Angeal looks about 60.” irritation crept into Sephiroth’s voice. A distance built of secrets, resentment, and unanswered questions spanned between the two men, making the ensuing silence tense and oppressive. They couldn’t continue like this, not with Angeal’s condition as it was. This wasn’t the time for secrets and rivalries.

“He’s degrading.” Genesis admitted quietly. He doubted the General knew exactly how much it cost him to admit that, to own his weakness and the inescapable flaws in their genes. Sephiroth looked confused. Of course he would, Genesis thought bitterly, the perfect General with the perfect genetics, what would he know of weakness?

“Degrading? Why?” Sephiroth asked.

“Do you know why we’re so much more capable than the average SOLDIER, Sephiroth? Do you know why we are the best?” Sephiroth looked about the room, as though searching for eavesdroppers. The office was unlikely to be bugged but with Shinra one could never truly be sure.

“This isn’t a conversation we should have here.” Sephiroth said.

“You wanted answers didn’t you?” Genesis asked harshly, starting to pace. “Project G. Overseen by Hollander, Jenova cells and mako were injected into unborn children. The result was Angeal and myself. The enhancements made us stronger, faster, better.” he took a breath, as though stalling the explanation might delay the reality of it. “Now those enhancements are tearing us apart.” It was ironic really; their highly vaunted strength was also their destruction.

Sephiroth looked shocked, slowly bleeding into confusion. He looked out the window, trying to make sense of what he was hearing.

“My mother’s cells?” he asked. Genesis remembered the man’s unusual background, no parents and a childhood he didn’t remember, just a single name attached to a reported mother. Knowing what he did now, he suspected not having those memories was a blessing.

“You’ve never actually met your mother have you? You’ve only been told her name.” he said, looking at Sephiroth from the corner of his eye. How the General would react to this news was anybody’s guess. “Jenova was excavated from a two thousand year old rock layer. She’s a monster.”

“What? But… then what am I?” he asked slowly, his expression the closest to horrified Genesis had ever seen.

“You were the result of Project S. I don’t know what they did to you; Hojo keeps his cards close to the chest. But it worked, whatever it was. You will not degrade.” the bitterness in his voice was clear but Sephiroth didn’t notice. He was looking out the window and clearly not seeing any of it.

“I always knew that I was not like the rest. But this… this is not what I meant.” he said distantly, as though speaking to himself. “Am I a monster?” he asked, looking at his hands.

“My friend, the fates are cruel, there are no dreams, no honour remains. We are all monsters.”

Sephiroth turned to him, shaking off his indecision and looking ready to contest the point.

In a flurry of black feathers Genesis let his wing unfurl. He found no satisfaction in Sephiroth’s look of shock and abject horror.

“The arrow has left the bow of the goddess.”


	16. Laugh or Cry

Hawke flicked the last of the monster ichor off her daggers. The strange creature had been far too easy a kill for her taste.

Everyone around her was so depressed these days. She couldn’t blame them but it had her missing Varric even more than usual. Her loyal storytelling dwarf faced every situation with a smirk, a joke, and a crossbow bolt. Hawke still occasionally turned to the side expecting Varric to be there, waiting to share in the madness. Thinking about how much she missed him just made her all the more depressed which in turn made her miss him all over again.

She knew she was just feeling sorry for herself and tried to amuse herself with monster hunting, lest she reach some kind of self-pity singularity. The slums were not proving to be particularly amusing.

She hadn’t seen Genesis in the Fade since returning from Rocket town. He presumably had a lot on his plate and didn’t have much time for fretting about in the dream world. It wasn’t until Zack arrived at the church that morning wearing the most miserable expression she had ever seen that she got an update on Angeal’s condition. Sure she didn’t actually know the man, but she was involved now and he had her concern if only by association. He was still in a coma and the doctors were all baffled. Zack was devastated by his mentor’s condition, especially since he was still in the dark about what caused it. Hawke had left to give him and Aerith a little privacy.

Aerith wasn’t handling the situation any better. That had Hawke feeling incredibly guilty. It hadn’t been intentional but Aerith had still found herself with the weight of someone’s life on her shoulders. The girl wasn’t a warrior or even a field medic; she didn’t know how to handle that pressure. Angeal was still dying, and Aerith was weathering the guilt for that, even more so with Zack crying over her shoulder about it.

Elmyra had noticed her daughter’s distress and given Hawke a lecture the likes of which she hadn’t seen in years. Hell’s fury might not rival a woman scorned but neither held a candle to a protective parent. Hawke couldn’t argue with Elmyra, she sincerely regretting putting Aerith in that situation. It was clearly more than the teenager could handle.

She brooded her way back to the church. Aerith wanted to know more healing techniques but she had no more to teach. Hawke sighed in frustration, why did life always have to pile all the problems on at once? Couldn’t they form an orderly queue and let her deal with them one at a time? Of course not, that would be far too reasonable.

Zack was leaving the church just as she arrived, a smile that was more determined than happy on his face. He nodded at the daily Turk, a very professional bald one this time.

Inside the church she found a pensive looking Aerith. She was sitting at the edge of the flower bed, staring at the blossoms as though they might be hiding some all-important revelation.

“Hi Hawke.” she said, biting her lip. She opened her mouth to continue and then appeared to change her mind. Hawke sat next to her and waited, knowing she would say whatever she needed to when she was ready.

“I was wondering about… Fade Shaping.” Aerith said as though the topic was somehow sacred.

“Oh? What about it?” Hawke asked, forgoing the reverent tone. They’d discussed it many times; it was just another type of magic as far as she was concerned, even if it was unique to Aerith.

“You said it makes my powers stronger right? Entering the Fade and… well, shaping things there instead of doing it here?” Aerith had slowly perfected the art of entering the Fade at will, but they hadn’t practised much there, largely because there was no reason to. The empty Fade of Gaia didn’t necessitate much practise.

“That’s right. Or at least, that’s how I understand it. The only other Fade Shaper I know knew even less about his powers than I did.” she said.

“But theoretically, my healing would be stronger through the fade?” Aerith was clearly building up to something.

“Theoretically, but it’s not like you can get physically hurt in the fade in the first place.”

“But maybe I could use that to heal someone not in the fade?”

“What exactly do you have in mind?” Hawke asked cautiously, fairly certain she knew what Aerith was getting at.

“I want to try healing Angeal again.” she said with a decisive nod. Hawke sighed.

“What happened was not your fault, Aerith.” she said firmly, “You are not responsible for-”

“I know.” the girl said quietly. “But if I can help him, then shouldn’t I at least try?”

“You have tried. We both did.” she said, hoping to get through to the girl. Sometimes trying just wasn’t enough as Hawke well knew, but you needed to keep living regardless.

“I can do more.” Aerith said, her voice taking on the stubborn tone it did when she was determined to get her way.

“Aerith, toying with people in the Fade is very dangerous. What you’re talking about is the sort of thing healers spend decades studying before even attempting.” Hawke wasn’t about to let the girl’s emotions make a potentially terrible decision.

“I know it’s dangerous, but the demons are-”

“This isn’t about demons. When something goes wrong in the Fade the consequences can be beyond disastrous. There’s as much chance of healing him as there is of accidentally destroying his mind.”

“What?” Aerith said, not expecting such a hiccup in her plan.

“A person’s connection to the fade is a delicate but vital part of their mind, mess with it and you can do some serious damage Aerith. You have the potential to be very powerful, but do you know how to wield that power?” Hawke asked, looking Aerith intently in the eye.

“I’ll be careful.” she said quietly.

“Do you remember how vicious the corruption was? It’s not going to let go of him easily.” she sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I’m not even sure if it’s possible. Some things just can’t be cured.”

“I can do it Hawke.” Aerith said, jutting her chin out in determination. “I’ve thought it through, and I know what I’m doing.”

Hawke considered the girl. She wasn’t quite the delicate waif she had been when they first met. She was more confident in her own power now, in herself as a Cetra. Combined with the growth spurt she’d gone through and the self-assured way she had taken to standing with her staff, she did indeed look like a competent mage. But it was Hawke’s shoulder she had cried on less than a week ago, when the knowledge sunk in that she couldn’t stop Angeal from dying. She supposed this was a healer’s equivalent to a warrior’s first kill, when you truly realised that you held someone’s life in your hands. That you could be the difference between life and death.

That blood didn’t wash off.

Aerith was not ready for this.

“Please Hawke.” she said, interpreting the look in Hawke’s eye as not in her favour. “You said it yourself, I’m a healer. All I want to do is help. What other chance does Angeal have?”

She narrowed her eyes at the girl.

“Fine.” She said, wondering when she turned into such a pushover.

“But first you’re going to tell me exactly what you have in mind. Then, if I think it sounds safe enough for the both of you, and _only then_ , you can give it a shot.” A life was on the line, Aerith wouldn’t be trying any strange and experimental healing techniques unless they had Hawke’s absolute approval.

Aerith let out a breath of relief and smiled widely.

“Also,” Hawke said, thinking through the list of things that could go completely wrong. “I’d recommend trying it on Genesis first. If even the slightest thing goes wrong, Angeal probably won’t survive.”

“Okay, fair enough.” she said, nodding along. “I’ll practice on Genesis. If he doesn’t mind.”

Hawke wondered what Genesis would think of this odd scheme. She’d find out soon enough, she supposed.

She looked up to find Aerith now looking at her with a smile that was verging on mischievous. She eyed the girl warily.

“What?” she asked suspiciously.

“You know, he is very handsome. Genesis, I mean.” Aerith said with a conspiratorial grin. “Don’t you think, Hawke?”

“Probably a bit too old for you, Aerith.” Hawke said pleasantly, smirking back at the girl.

She spluttered, not appreciating the deflection.

“You know I’m going out with Zack.”

“And yet here you are going on about Genesis.” She said with mock outrage. “Really Aerith, what would your mother say?”

“That’s not- You’re avoiding the question Hawke.” she said, putting her hands on her hips, clearly determined to squeeze at least a little gossip out of her tutor.

Hawke laughed.

“Come on, you’ve got some magic theory to explain to me.” she said, dragging the teenager off to their seats.

Aerith explained what she had in mind and Hawke had to admit it didn’t sound too bad. Rather than healing directly from the Fade (which she wasn’t sure was actually possible), Aerith intended to cast some kind of buffer or support spell on herself which would make healing temporarily easier in the real world. How exactly she intended to do that was harder to explain, as her ideas were based on hunches and instinct instead of recognizable techniques. Since Hawke didn’t understand how the whole Fade Shaping business worked anyway it was probably a moot point. All that mattered was that it was highly unlikely to backfire in any significant way. Probably.

She promptly called Genesis and explained the situation.

He responded to her offer of a teenager’s theoretical and completely untested healing technique by asking if they could try it tonight. Desperation did interesting things to people.

A plan was soon agreed upon. In the interests of not drawing attention to any of the involved parties and hopefully not tipping off the Turks (who Genesis trusted even less then she did), they decided to meet at the dead of night at the Church. Hawke found herself becoming almost giddy at the cloak and dagger aspect of it and had to remind herself this was Serious Business, not a jolly romp through High town.

* * *

 

An hour past midnight the two women snuck out of the house.

Hawke had considered telling Elmyra about it but decided ‘I’m taking your daughter to a midnight magic ritual’ might not be well received. She felt distinctly like a foolhardy teenager, sneaking out to meet someone at the dead of night while trying not to wake any of the responsible adults. Aerith certainly bought into the spirit of the endeavour and was tip toeing and stage whispering the whole way out before breaking into fits of giggles because she was clearly far too excited. Hawke spared a thought for whether or not she would regret teaching the girl how to sneak out of the second story window without drawing attention. She decided such concerns could be fretted over later.

Wandering the slums at night was incredibly dangerous and Hawke found it very soothing. The filthy city hiding under the plate managed the impressive task of being even more ominous under cover of nightfall. The church, cheery and almost picturesque in the day time was now an eerie and foreboding spectre of gothic architecture.

Inside the church was empty. Or at least it was when they arrived. Minutes after they entered a winged Genesis descended through the whole in the roof, landing softly on the floorboards. He casually banished his wing and greeted them cordially, acting for all the world as though everyone used the roof entrance.

“You _flew_ here? What happened to not drawing attention?” Hawke asked incredulously.

“Nobody saw me. You didn’t really expect me to walk through the slums did you?”

“Of course not. That would be far too plebeian.” She said with a grin.

He didn’t dignify her with an answer and turned to focus on Aerith.

“Aerith wasn’t it? What exactly did you intend to do?” he asked tersely. Hawke would have been irritated at his brusque way of her addressing her student, had Aerith not looked him in the eye and answered confidently.

“I’m going to enter the Fade and cast a modified support spell on myself, and then I’ll wake up and try to heal you. I don’t know how long it will take; I may need to try more than once.”

“Why didn’t you do this in Rocket town?” he said, giving her an intent look.

“I only just thought of it this morning.” Aerith looked nervously to Hawke and then back to Genesis, “It’s… it’s not too late is it?”

He looked up at the city plate through the hole in the roof. “No. It’s not too late.” he said.

“Let’s get started then.” said Hawke. “Is there anything you need, Aerith?”

“No, you don’t need to do anything. Just stay close for when I wake up, I don’t know how much time I’ll have.”

They arranged themselves inside the church and began their vigil. Aerith lay amidst the flowers and was sound asleep almost immediately, boldly strolling into the fade. Hawke sat, sprawled lazily on the wooden floor boards while Genesis claimed the nearest pew as though it were an illustrious throne. Darkness obscured most of the room, except for where they sat near the pulpit. The haze of distant Neon lights filtered in through the broken roof, casting a bluish light on the three mages. If not for the odd angles it flooded in at, you could almost believe it was moonlight.

None of the usual night time noises of the slums reached the inside of the church. The sounds of rowdy drunks, gunshots, and music from blown out speakers were all left behind in the cracked streets. They sat in expectant silence, waiting tensely for some unknown signal.

“Who is she?” Genesis suddenly asked, gesturing to Aerith.

Hawke took a breath. There was no point trying to keep it a secret given the circumstances. She was surprised he hadn’t asked sooner.

“She’s a Cetra.” she said plainly.

He looked at Hawke before snapping back to focus on the form lying in the flowerbed.

“I had assumed her to be from your world.”

Hawke shook her head, “She was the first person I met here, about an hour before I stumbled into you actually. Her powers have some overlap with my own; though when I met her she didn’t know how to use any of them. I’ve been teaching her what I can.” and was now incredibly proud of how far she had come, though there was still so much for her to learn.

“I see.” he said, eyes narrowing in thought. “And this healing ritual we are attempting?”

“It was her idea. This magic is beyond me, presumably some lost Cetra technique. What she knows she’s discovered through trial and error.” she sighed, “There’s no guarantee this will work, Genesis.”

He looked at her searchingly, hearing what she wasn’t saying.

“You don’t think it will.”

“It seems… unlikely.” She said, feeling like she was selling Aerith out. “She’s talented, but she’s still a novice.”

“You didn’t drag me out here for something you expect to fail did you?” he asked derisively.

She looked at him sharply.

“There is a slim chance it will work. Feel free to leave if you don’t think that worth your time.”

He looked down and gave a bitter laugh.

“And go where? I have no other options.”

Silence reigned again.

* * *

 

“Hey, I forgot to ask at the time, but did you get injured?” Hawke asked casually. “Back in Rocket town I mean.”

They had been waiting for over an hour now and his attempts to silently await the outcome of this little experiment had been dashed to pieces by the woman who had no respect for the tense atmosphere.

“No, I wasn’t. Why do you ask?”

“Damn.” she said. He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Ah… I just meant it’ll be easier to see if this works or not with a visible injury. Will you be able to tell otherwise?” she quickly amended.

“If her healing is anything like yours then yes, I’ll feel it.” he said, recalling the slight burn he had felt as the corruption was pushed back. “Every time I’ve been healed so far, it was as though a shroud was pulled back from my mind. My thoughts became clearer where I hadn’t realized they had been muted.”

As he said it he wondered at how forth coming he was being. He hadn’t told anyone about this. Admitting that his mind was being altered was completely unlike him. However, there was little point hiding it from Hawke, not now anyway. She had already seen him at his worst. If the wing didn’t daunt her then he doubted this would.

“Your thoughts are… shrouded?”

“It’s only in sudden comparison that it’s noticeable. The haze encroaches so slowly, I can barely tell. I think it may have become worse with…” his hand came up to rest on the shoulder where the wing hid and he bowed his head. She knew what he meant. Regardless of how easily she took it in stride, he couldn’t shake the shame of the monstrous limb.

“But it pulls back right? When you’re healed you get your mind back?” Something in her voice sounded off. He looked up but her face was turned at such an angle as to be mostly obscured by shadow.

“Yes. As I said, I only noticed it when it retreated.”

“Right.” she nodded thoughtfully, expression still hidden. “Well, hopefully it’ll be thoroughly routed this time.” she said, lying back on the floorboards, apparently dismissing whatever had bothered her.

“One can only hope.” he said, still watching her.

“Genesis.” She said eventually.

“Mm?”

“I know I’m stunning and all, but starring is still rude.”

He looked away, rolling his eyes.

“I’m just surprised that you can be so relaxed around me, given what you’ve seen. You know I’m hardly normal.”

She gave a mighty yawn.

“Everybody I care about is abnormal in some way or other. It’s practically a requirement.” she said, eyes twinkling at the plate above them.

“You care about me, Hawke? I’m touched.” he said with a smirk that covered the fact that he actually was touched.

She chuckled. “I think an old enemy of mine said it best: ’I have a growing lack of disgust for you.’”

“Now that is flattery.” he said, shaking his head with a smile.

Comfortable silence settled over them.

Aerith muttered something in her sleep and rolled over. Hawke sat up again. After stretching out her shoulders, she started tinkering with the clasps of her spikey gauntlet. It was obviously well kept, and just like the rest of her armour, equally well worn. Torn from her own world with nothing but the clothes on her back, he marvelled at how composed she was about it.

“Ripples form on the water's surface, the wandering soul knows no rest.” he murmured.

“What is it with that poem?” She said, looking up at him. “What is it anyway? The Chant of light: heathen edition?” The smirk on her face was just daring him to be outraged.

He was very good at being outraged.

“It is not heathen!” he exclaimed, scowling at her laughing form. “It’s only Gaia’s greatest literary achievement, you uncultured savage.” he said bitingly, knowing it was a lost cause but unable to not rise to the bait. “What’s the chant of light anyway?” he said with a sneer.

She groaned and leaned back on her hands.

“It’s only the most sacred writing in all of Thedas. It’s an absurdly long poem that forms the basis for the Chantry.”

He blinked at that.

“Your world’s religion is founded on poetry?” he asked, in a tone approaching awe, “Paradise. No wonder you want to go back.”

“Of course you’d think that.” she said with a sardonic smile. “The Chantry is also responsible for mages being locked up. Something about magic existing to serve man, not to give him an inferiority complex. And that was incredibly blasphemous of me. Sebastian would be just sickened.”

“Sebastian?” he asked.

“A Chantry priest and a friend. Criminally attractive, especially since he was celibate. He fought alongside us a couple of times but I think I made him a bit uncomfortable. That’s what I get for being an unlawful mage always throwing lightning bolts about.” she said.

He laughed lightly. He suspected a chaste man would have very good reason for being skittish around Hawke and it had very little to do with the law, especially when she was wielding her wild electrical energy.

He was about to speak when Aerith suddenly cried out.


	17. Panacea

Aerith cried out, still lying in the middle of the flower patch. Hawke and Genesis were both on their feet instantly, but the girl was still asleep. She was breathing heavily, her brow drawn down in concentration. Her hands tightened on her staff, held securely against her chest.

Hawke’s wished she was in the Fade with Aerith, if only for moral support. She didn’t know what was happening, and that was unbearable. She just had to trust that Aerith knew what she was doing. Her hand twitched for the comfort of her own staff.

A circle of softly glowing runes appeared over Aerith’s sleeping form. The pearly white symbols floated hazily over a span of about three meters of flowers around her. They pulsed once before sinking into the ground.

Hawke and Genesis looked at each other before focusing on the Cetra again.

“I think this it.” Hawke said quietly.

The glowing runes dissipated completely. For a moment all was still, and the two adults watched cautiously. The moment stretched on, nothing visible happening.

“Wasn’t she supposed to wake up?” Genesis asked tensely.

Suddenly a huge spout of water flew up from the flower bed, sending everyone stumbling back in shock. Hawke could hear Aerith coughing and saw the girl stumble out from the blast. Water and petals were raining down around them from the impromptu fountain, leaving them all drenched.

“Maker! What did you do?” Hawke asked, completely baffled. Aerith looked equally confused. The fountain calmed down a little, leaving just a bubbling spring in the middle of the flower patch.

“I didn’t… that wasn’t supposed to happen.” The soaked girl offered, looking at the growing pool, her head tilted in puzzlement. Hawke just laughed.

She heard Genesis gasp and turned in time to see him stagger back as though struck. His face was twisted in a look of pain. He started to fall, and she rushed forward, catching him just before he hit the ground.

“Genesis?” she asked cautiously. His weight was more than she could support so she knelt, lowering him to the ground. She held him with his shoulders propped up against her arm, watching his face in concern. Rivulets of water ran down his face into his sodden clothes. His hand clutched at his chest and he grit his teeth in pain. Hawke briefly looked up at the new pond and anxiously wondered what exactly the water was doing to him.

With no other ideas, she cast a simple healing spell on him hoping to at least see what was wrong. She felt the magic sink in, but to her surprise the corruption she had come to expect was receding. She blinked in shock. She sent her mana back into him, searching out the degradation. The corrosive presence, once so tightly coiled around his very being was shrivelling and drawing back. It wasn’t even putting up a fight! His look of pain was replaced by one of wonder, colour she hadn’t known was missing slowly returned to his complexion and his eyes glowed far brighter then she had ever seen. Reaching out one last time she felt the remains of the degradation wither entirely, fading away and leaving him healthy and whole.

Hawke glanced up at the nervous looking Aerith and then down at Genesis again, a broad smile splitting her face.

“It’s gone…” he said in shock. He got to his feet and rolled his shoulders, stretching out his muscles as he sought to verify what Hawke knew had just happened. The revelation sunk in and he laughed in exultation.

“I’m healed! Finally!” he said; spinning around to face them, his expression completely open and filled with joy.

Hawke laughed with him, swept up in the moment regardless of the unorthodox route they took to get there. She found herself in his arms and being spun around in his jubilant celebration. Next thing she knew his lips were pressed against hers. The shock only lasted a second before she kissed him back, her hand reaching up to caress the back of his neck. A moment later they drew back, his arm still wrapped around her waist. She grinned up at him, his intense blue eyes practically sparkling back at her.

Aerith’s giggles brought them back to reality and they separated. Hawke chuckled at the scandalised expression on her students face. Next to her, Genesis regained his composure and cleared his throat, though he couldn’t help the smile that still covered his face.

“Whatever you did, Aerith, it worked.” He said, returning to his usual dignified manner, “You have given me a new lease on life. I cannot thank you enough.” he bowed with his hand over his heart.

Aerith beamed with joy at his proclamation.

“You’re welcome.” she said, “It wasn’t anything, really.”

“On the contrary, you’ve probably saved Angeal’s life; as well as my own.” he said more solemnly, “I am incalculably in your debt, both you.”

Aerith seemed a little unsure under his genuine expression of gratitude.

“I’m happy I could help.” she offered with an honest smile.

Hawke suddenly recalled what Genesis had told her less than an hour ago and eyed him speculatively.

“How’s your mind? Any clearer?” she asked quietly. He might not appreciate the question but she had to be sure.

He closed his eyes and smiled serenely.

“Clearer than it has ever been before.” he said, sounding almost as relieved as she felt. She accepted his word with a nod that in no way summed up how thankful she was that his mind was free. She doubted he knew just how much she had feared for him at the revelation that his thoughts weren’t entirely his own.

Satisfied that an otherwise unavoidable crisis had been avoided she turned back to Aerith and tried to figure out what had actually happened.

“So what exactly did you do?” She asked, eyeing the now calm pond in the middle of the flower bed. Semantics didn’t matter but this was not what she had been expecting. In fact she was fairly certain it was impossible.

“Does it really matter? It worked.” Genesis said, stretching slightly, still basking in the wonder of a body in full working order, albeit one wearing squeaking wet leather.

“I’m just curious is all. The plan didn’t call for a spontaneous water fountain. I wouldn’t have even thought it possible.” she said with a baffled smile. Clearly she had underestimated Aerith’s capabilities. Or perhaps Gaia just didn’t care for her world’s rules.

“I’m not entirely sure.” Aerith said slowly, “Everything was going according to plan, but then the spell started to slip. I lost the shape, but I cast it anyway hoping it might still work. I had no idea I could summon a spring of magic healing potion!” she said smiling.

“Neither did I, Aerith.” Hawke said, shaking her head with a laugh. “I think that’s the best botched spell I’ve ever seen.”

“I wonder how much it will take to heal Angeal.” Genesis mused, turning to study the new water feature.

“We’ve got a number of empty potion vials you can use.” Hawke said, wandering over to the back room where they stored her teaching materials. “If you need more, you can always just come back.” She returned, brandishing a few of the empty little bottles.

They went about filling them, and a few extras just in case. Hawke noticed Aerith surreptitiously watching her and Genesis as though she expected them to start kissing again the minute she turned her back. The mood was decidedly cheery until the chill of cold wet clothing brought them back down a little. The night was waning and despite having slept the majority of the time Aerith was constantly yawning. The other two were also feeling drained and once Genesis had his supplies of the mystical potion, they went their separate ways.

* * *

 

In the dim gloom that preceded the dawn Hawke and Aerith slowly made their way home. Despite her exhaustion Aerith skipped along, grinning merrily in the wake of her first major victory. Even though it hadn’t gone according to plan, Hawke was incredibly proud of Aerith and what she had achieved. She was very pleased with the night’s escapade. As her mind wandered to thoughts of Genesis and how very soft his lips were she felt her own lips turning up in a smile that was somewhere between sly and feral. Aerith noticed and giggled, obviously seeing where her mind had gone.

“I knew you thought he was handsome.” she said, winking at her.

“Well, can you blame me?” Hawke said, laughing lightly. Aerith would probably never let her hear the end of it.

Tired, cold, wet, and smiling, they arrived back at the house.

Elmyra was standing in the doorway. She was not smiling.

Soon after Hawke found herself unceremoniously kicked out.

Standing on the street holding a box of all her worldly goods, she reflected that she probably should have seen this coming. Sneaking Aerith out probably was quite irresponsible, just because Hawke was given to bizarre and unpredictable behaviour didn’t mean she should encourage it in others.

“Hawke!”

She turned to see Aerith leaning out of her second storey window.

“I’m so sorry Hawke!” she called out, sounding genuinely contrite.

“Don’t worry about it!” she called back up to her. “You’d better get back inside before your mother notices.” Angry mothers accusing her of irresponsibility were one of Hawke’s only weaknesses.

“But… are we still going to train together?” Aerith asked, looking somewhere between hopeful and heartbroken.

“I don’t think so Aerith, but don’t worry, you’ll see me around. Take care of yourself okay? Don’t do anything foolish while I’m gone.” She hoped Aerith would be safe. The Turks had worked well with her as the girl’s bodyguard, but then she had also drawn unnecessary attention. Aerith could at least defend herself a little more now, and she did have Zack keeping a very interested eye on her.

“I won’t do anything you wouldn’t do.” Aerith said with a wink and a smile.

“You know that’s not quite the same thing.” She called back with a laugh. “I’ll see around.”

Aerith pulled herself back into her window.

Hawke yawned and started walking. She suspected she’d probably be more upset about losing her accommodation when she was less tired. As it was she just strolled through the slums looking for an inn where she could sleep the day away. Satisfaction from the night’s success hadn’t abated in the slightest. Any practical thoughts about the future, where she would go and what she would do, were all saved up for later. The small reasonable part of her mind did briefly observe that perhaps it was best this way. Trouble followed her around like a bad smell; Aerith didn’t need to be caught up in whatever madness she would inevitably find. Well, further madness anyway.

She found a relatively decent looking inn and bartered for a cheap room with the grumpy, acne ridden desk clerk.

She entered the small room and locked the door behind her. A brief glance told her it probably hadn’t been cleaned any time in the last decade. There was a small table, a barred window looking out onto a trash filled alley, and a narrow bed. Not bad given how much she paid for it.

Tossing the keys on the table, she put down her box of worldly goods. Along with her weapons and the clothes on her back this was all she had. A dozen assorted knives and daggers, a toothbrush, and a coffee mug with ‘A Wizard did it’ printed on the side. This felt a lot like square one. Then again, now she had both a coffee cup and a tooth brush so that had to count for something. Her tired mind thought Anders would probably find the mug funny.

Sitting heavily on the bed, she dumped her weapons next to her. She unbuckled her boots and plate armour but didn’t bother with the rest, just collapsing back onto the bed carelessly. She stretched luxuriously on the cheap and lumpy mattress. So it wasn’t the bed at Aerith’s place, but Genesis was no longer dying. That was a small price to pay as far as she was concerned. The knowledge that her friend finally had what he had been searching for kept her grinning like an idiot. Not only was Genesis no longer physically breaking down but his mind was free as well. It was a far better result than she could have hoped for. His version of the blight was completely healed.

She slowly drifted off, keenly awaiting the soft embrace of sleep. Until her eyes snapped open abruptly.

She sat up, as that last thought replayed in her head.

_Genesis’ version of the blight had been cured_.

The thought sunk in and its ramifications hit her. His degradation wasn’t exactly the same blight she knew but it worked in the same manner and it felt startlingly similar. And it had been cured.

Her mind immediately jumped to Carver, fighting the Darkspawn horde until he inevitably joined it, if he hadn’t already. The Grey Wardens, forever battling an enemy that could never be defeated. The tainted fields of Ferelden, the eternally corrupted Deep Roads.

There had never been a cure, not in all of Thedas’ long history. Over two thousand years, Five Archdemons, and more death then anyone could recount, there had never been a remedy. There had only ever been death, a quick and merciful end in comparison to joining the horde.

Gaia had no blight. While Thedas had suffered under the corruption for millennia, a teenage girl from the slums just conjured up a cure on a whim.

Would the potion even work in Thedas though? The two weren’t the same, perhaps it didn’t have the power to help anyway. Or maybe it had the power to end the corruption once and for all. Did it even matter? The blight was in Thedas, the cure on Gaia.

Hawke felt herself trembling, whether from anger or grief she couldn’t tell. A bitter laugh welled up insider her; the more she thought about it the more she wanted to break something.

The world that never had the blight was the world with the cure.

She lay back down again, her peace of mind shattered. She slowly fell asleep, her mind filled with images of a tainted Ferelden, and a brother forever lost to her. 


	18. Reality

Sephiroth wearily made his way to Angeal’s room in the infirmary. It was half past five in the morning and almost no one was awake yet. He had gone through two cups of coffee already and he wasn’t sure if he was technically awake either.

This had become the General’s routine every morning. It was a sad replacement for the much older tradition of catching up on light paperwork with Angeal in the early mornings. For years both he and the black haired soldier would be the only ones awake at such an early hour and would sit in comfortable silence while getting a head start on the day’s workload. It was a reliable part of Sephiroth’s day and one he wouldn’t dismiss.

With Angeal in a coma, Sephiroth now spent that time visiting his friend. He didn’t like hospitals, they reminded him too much of the labs, but this was worth his discomfort.

The staff on duty seemed much more uncomfortable than he did. He was used to that. People had always been intimidated by him. He had simply grown used to it. It wasn’t intentional, some people were just easily frightened.

After the revelation from Genesis however, he felt a little differently about it. He had seen the wing, the result of monstrous experimentation that had created them all. He had even looked into Genesis’ claims. All the files had been above his security clearance. The more he thought about it though, the more sense it made. He had never been treated like a normal human. Hojo and his rabid pack of scientists had made no secret of the fact that he was unique. Different somehow.

_Not human._

He navigated the sterile corridors, his steps as measured and purposeful as always despite his troubled thoughts.

In the day’s following Genesis’ return from Rocket town Sephiroth had found himself drawing away from those around him. A paranoia was starting to build within him. How many people truly knew what he was? That he was more monster DNA than human? Those that had cowered away from him from the beginning, did they perceive what he himself was only just realising?

Was it fear that had always had people quaking in his presence, or was it disgust?

In the dark corners of his mind, he knew that disgust to be mutual. Shinra, its scientists, its thousands of complicit employees, they were the ones responsible. They thought to play god with their genetic tinkering, and now they dared recoil from the result?

He thought of Angeal, slowly wasting away while the doctors muttered about how terribly sad it was. Genesis, struggling under the weight of his own flawed genetics before they dragged him down as well.

Shinra had let this happen.

_Pathetic humans. Traitors. They deserved to be-_

Sephiroth paused, his step faltering. He was unnerved by the dark implications of his own unfinished train of thought. He shook his head, wondering at the extremes his mind had run to so quickly. It was unlike him really. He must just be overtired. Another strong coffee would have him back to normal.

He arrived at Angeal’s room just as Genesis was leaving. That Genesis was even awake at this hour was unusual, but the smile he was trying to supress made the situation just bizarre. In all the years Sephiroth had known him Genesis had never been a morning person. Yet here he was, at 5:30am, clearly happy about something, while visiting his terminally ill childhood friend. Sephiroth was immediately suspicious.

“Ah, good morning Sephiroth.” Genesis greeted.

“What are you doing?” he asked bluntly, not bothering with formalities.

Genesis only responded by putting on an insufferably smug smirk.

“Infinite in mystery is the-”

“I’m not in the mood, Genesis.” There was a reason why he treasured his quiet mornings with Angeal. He did not have the patience to endure recitals until at least 10am.

Genesis didn’t look anywhere near as outraged as he usually would at such an interruption.

“You’re loss.” he said haughtily. The red head glanced briefly back at the door to Angeal’s room and his arrogant expression was replaced by one of relief.

“Sephiroth,” he said quietly “I have every reason to believe Angeal will recover.”

“The Doctors have said otherwise.” he responded cautiously.

“See if they still think that later today.” he said with a smirk.

“What do you know?” Sephiroth asked with narrowed eyes. Genesis wasn’t going to be keeping anything secret, not on this subject. “What’s happened?” he practically demanded.

“I found a cure.”

* * *

Hawke stood calmly in the Fade, facing a row of gleaming white columns.

She took a deep breath, flung out her arm and watched the first pillar shattered. Tiny shards of smashed marble rained down around her. She shook the debris out of her hair. Then she stretched out her arm again and blew up the next pillar.

Behind her lay a swath of similarly decimated columns, the tragic remains of Hawke’s focused destruction. She had no particular quarrel with the architecture; she just needed something to focus on. With so little to work with, she had resorted to practicing earth magic on the surroundings.

Despite concentrating on the task at hand she found she had mastered the technique a little too well and her bid for distraction failed. Her mind returned to the same subjects she had been turning over all day.

The first was the question of Aerith’s cure and getting back to Thedas, but she ruthlessly cut off that line of thought. She had already waste too much time fretting over it, there was no point diving deeper into the well of depression.

From there her mind meandered over to Genesis. Thoughts she had been ignoring for months now were running around in her head like a litter of mabari pups fleeing their trainer.

Aerith had been right. She did think Genesis was handsome. Incredibly handsome in fact. Beforehand she had been content to ignore that because she had no intention of remaining on this world. There was no time for such distractions when she was just visiting Gaia on an impromptu holiday that would surely be ending... eventually. Somehow.

Hawke had never been the sort to take relationships lightly. She was generous with her friendship but unflinchingly loyal. The same applied doubly so to any questions of the heart. She didn’t do things by halves, it was all or nothing.

She couldn’t just sleep with someone and then move on, because Hawke didn’t do moving on. Which was why kissing Genesis, even if only for a moment, had her bothered. The hungry and sensual woman inside her had him in her sights, but the rest of her didn’t want to walk that road.

She knew kissing him had just been on the spur of the moment and it probably didn’t mean a whole lot but an irritating part of herself wanted more, oh so much more. But she couldn’t have more because she had every intention of returning to Thedas. Even if he was genuinely interested (and really who could say?) she wasn’t in any position to be starting something. Her friendship he could have, already did have in fact, but she had a line and dammit if she didn’t want to skip right across it.

She blew up another pillar.

She knew why this had her so worked up and it wasn’t just the impracticality of it. She felt like she was giving up on Thedas. As though by wanting more of the people from this world she was consigning those of her own to the past. The cold cynical part of her mind whispered that they were already the past. Even if she did return to Kirkwall, Anders, Merrill, Isabella, and Aveline would still be gone.

She shook her head roughly, as though hoping to dislodge the painful thoughts. She didn’t want to deal with that.

The next pillar was ground into dust in her minds grip.

“What on Gaia are you doing?” exclaimed a familiar voice behind her. She turned to see the red headed Soldier looking at her with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m destroying the scenery. What does it look like I’m doing?” She lifted her arm, willing the smaller piles of rubble to fly up and combine into a solid boulder that she sent hurtling at the next three columns.

“I see.” Genesis asked, observing the long trail of destruction behind her. “And why exactly are you indulging in senseless destruction?”

“Practice mostly. You never know when you might be attacked by sentient masonry.” she said lightly. She was most certainly not going divulge why she was bothered; he and his striking blue eyes were just going to have to get over it.

He sent her a sceptical look.

“How’s Angeal?” she asked, knowing that would distract him.

“He’s starting to recover.” He said with a smile. “The doctors have no idea why of course, but his body is starting to heal itself. Given how injured he was they suspect it may take a while before he actually wakes up, but he will make a full recovery.” He was far more restrained in his joy then he had been at the church but Hawke could hear the immense relief in his voice. He sounded almost more thrilled at his friend’s recovery then he did at his own. She wasn’t surprised; Angeal was essentially his brother after all.

That dragged up thoughts of her own brother, which she desperately tried to squash. It wasn’t fair to resent Genesis and Angeal for getting the healing Carver had been denied. Couldn’t she just be happy for him and leave it at that?

“That’s great news.” She said with a smile that she hoped wasn’t as bitter as it felt.

Given his odd look, it was apparent her hopes were in vain.

“What’s wrong Hawke?” he asked with narrowed eyes.

She sighed and sat down on a larger chunk of broken masonry.

“I am happy you’re healed, don’t misunderstand that.” she said, hoping he would hear the sincerity in her voice. “I’m glad for the both of you. I wouldn’t wish that corruption on anyone.”

He looked at her expectantly, calmly waiting for her to get to the point.

She restrained the need to sigh again. This really wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have.

“You know my own brother is dying of this right?” she said quietly.

There was a look of realisation in his eyes, “Ah. I see.” he said, glancing at her with what might have been remorse. She instantly felt awful. He’d finally gotten his life back; she shouldn’t be making him feel guilty for that.

“Look, I’m sorry. Don’t mind me, you have every right to be thrilled right now, I’m just-”

“No, I understand.” he held up a hand to stall her apologies. “My own brother is healing. I’m sorry that yours was denied that.” he said, sitting next to her on the fallen pillar.

“Carver, wasn’t it?” he asked gently.

“Yeah. Carver Hawke.” She said softly. She tilted her head back, looking out at the never ending green that swirled around them.

“What was he like?” the question was asked casually as he stretched out his legs, crossing them at the ankles.

“He was an idiot.” she said with a smile. “I loved him to bits of course; always have, but he could be such a snotty little brat sometimes.” She could probably count on one hand the number of times they had actually agreed on anything. Even when they had agreed it was usually done with great reluctance. “I don’t think there was anyone in my little band of merry misfits that he actually got along with.”

Next to her Genesis smiled softly as she talked, nodding occasionally at the stories of her family. He asked about the good times they had together and she told him. Amidst the story telling and quiet laughter her eyes occasionally became a little damp but that was only because of all the dust in the air. He had the grace to not mention it.

“Who were these people you went gallivanting about with? Your ‘merry band of misfits’?” he asked, flicking his hair out of his face.

“My party of daring adventurers.” She smiled wistfully, remembering countless battles, drunken nights at the hanged man, and the never ending arguments. “They were a bizarre lot. Like collectable coins, Varric called us once, ‘but the sort nobody wants.’”

Except for her. She wanted them, more then she could say. Oh Maker, how she missed them.

“There was Varric, he’s a dwarven archer, and my best friend.” she said quietly, stubbornly ignoring the lump in her throat. “He and Isabella were easily two of the most crafty, dishonest people I have ever met, and I wouldn’t go anywhere without them.” her voice remained calm, but the tears could no longer be held back.

“There was Aveline, the uptight guard captain who may as well have been sealed inside her full plate armour. Fenris, the brooding escaped slave who was really quiet friendly after a couple of bottles of expensive wine. Merrill, the sweet little Dalish elf who just wanted to help her people.” Her composure cracked as she remembered the worst day of her life. “Anders, who only wanted mages to be free.”

She couldn’t hide from it anymore. As the tears ran dusty tracks down her face she was confronted with the harsh reality she had denied for so long.

“They died.” she whispered, more to herself than anyone else. It shouldn’t have been a revelation, but it was. She had known all along but it still hit her like it had happened yesterday. Genesis put his arm around her and she hung her head in grief.

“They were my family, Genesis, and they died.” She said weakly. She leant over, resting her forehead against his shoulder as she mourned. He held her silently, providing what little comfort he could.

“Only Fenris and Varric survived.” she said quietly, speaking into his shoulder. “And I’ll probably never see them again.”

“You’ll see them when you get back to Kirkwall.” Genesis offered after a moment of silence.

“We both know you don’t believe that.” she said softly. She no longer had the strength to lie to herself. “And to be honest… I don’t believe it either.”

 


	19. Making a Move

“Oh you cheating little Bastard!” Hawke threw her cards down in frustration. 

Reno smirked at her and pulled the pile of gil to himself.

“I aint cheating.” he said with a smile that did nothing to lend credence to his claim.

“The hell you’re not, Reno.” she said. She took a swig of her beer in consolation. After countless months of playing this game, she could now say she wasn’t half bad. She sincerely hoped he was cheating because tonight her pride was taking a beating.

“Yeah? Prove it.” He said.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m watching you. Don’t think you’re getting away with this.”

He snickered and began shuffling the cards for the next round. Hawke leant back in her chair, soaking up the relaxed atmosphere. Even in the middle of an embarrassing losing streak she was enjoying herself. She had needed this. The week had been far more emotionally taxing then anticipated. She was a bit embarrassed after her little melt down on Genesis’ shoulder in the Fade, but she was also relieved. It no longer felt like some foreboding truth was lurking behind her, just waiting to pounce and drag her emotions through the wringer. She still had no idea what she was going to do of course but she had at least admitted it. More than anything she felt lighter.

“You know,” Reno started, taking a drag from his cigarette. “it aint the same without you down at the church.”

Since Elmyra had kicked her out, she had left Aerith to her own devices. She just had to trust that she would be safe without her. She had been marginally concerned that she would lose her gambling partner now that she wasn’t working with them but Reno had just been even more laid back then usual. He dealt the cards.

“Aw, you guys missing me?” she asked with a lopsided grin.

“You know it, babe” he said with a wink.

“How is everything at the church by the way?” she asked, looking down at her cards. There was no way her luck was this bad.

“Eh, same as always. Zack’s keeping an eye on her.” he said, grinning at his own hand. “What are you doing now then? Found another run down church to squat in?”

“Mercenary work.” she said lightly. It had been so easy to slip back into the role she had played in the early days in Kirkwall. Monsters needed to be killed, criminals needed to be tracked down and she had plenty of experience at both. The strangest part was having to prove herself again. She had gotten used to the respect that came with being the Champion. It wasn’t quite the same on her own but she could make do. It still paid well.

“What, you join one of those gangs down in sector 6?” he asked incredulously.

“Hell no. I’m not getting involved in any of that mess.” she wanted no part in the petty gang wars constantly raging through the slums. “No, I work by myself. It’s really more bounty hunting then mercenary work.” she preferred the term ‘adventurer’ but that didn’t fit on a résumé.

“Yeah? You any good?”

“Damn good. I took down a grand horn this afternoon.” She drained her beer and asked for two cards. He gave an impressed whistle

“Shit, Hawke, what did ya do, poke its eyes out?” he said with a laugh.

“There is a little more to me than just pointy armour, Reno.”

“Sure there is.” he rolled his eyes and reached out for his own cards. Hawke saw his fingers twitch towards the bottom of the deck and she immediately lashed out. He gave a startled yelp as her gauntlet was suddenly curled around his wrist. Three aces fell out of his grasp.

“That’s not to say I didn’t poke out its eyes of course.” She said with a smirk.

* * *

 

Genesis sat in his office and contemplated smashing his head against the desk.

Since being cured his thoughts had been crystal clear. His conscious had then taken that clarity and proceeded to beat him over the head with it. He was feeling guilty. Exceedingly guilty in fact. Since when did he have problems with guilt? This was completely unlike him; maybe that magic water had done more than he realised. It was probably Hawke’s fault.

He hadn’t looked into finding her a way back to Thedas. Not with any genuine effort, anyway. Partially because he didn’t think it was possible, but mostly he just didn’t want her to go. He knew he owed her; he would probably be dead by now if she hadn’t come along. Helping her get home was the only thing she had asked of him. Before he had been content to briefly look, and then let his assumptions save him the time. He didn’t expect to find anything, and he didn’t want to regardless. He knew how incredibly selfish of him that was, and his conscious was utterly appalled at his own behaviour.

For so long his focus had been entirely on curing the degradation. It was only in passing he had noted his growing fondness for her; Angeal’s looming death had demanded all precedence. If stalling that tragedy meant Hawke had to be trapped in Gaia for longer then so be it. And yet now, healed and healthy, he was even more reluctant for her to leave. Rather he wanted her to do the exact opposite.

Hawke was an attractive woman. He had noticed that the day he met her, but then there were plenty of attractive woman in Midgar, many of whom would happily throw themselves at him if he so much as glanced their way. Hawke was so much more than a pretty face. He sought her out in the fade with barely a thought, he didn’t just enjoy her company he genuinely trusted her. There were only two other people on Gaia who that could be said for.

It was her shoulder he had clung to in shock when his wing first appeared. And in turn he had been honoured to be her pillar of support when she had broken down in the Fade. Hearing her give up on the one thing she had asked of him had felt like a punch to the gut.

_“You’ll see them again when you get back to Kirkwall.”_ he had said, hoping it didn’t sound as hollow to her ears as it did to his.

_“We both know you don’t believe that. And to be honest… I don’t either.”_

That was a few days ago. He had been warring with himself on the subject ever since. With a frustrated sigh he got to his feet and began pacing the room.

He couldn’t leave it at that. He had to do something. This brave woman had put aside her own concerns and grief and helped save his life while he did nothing in return. He couldn’t allow that to stand. He had promised his aid and he would hold to that. If she wanted to return to Thedas then he would do whatever it took to make that happen. No matter how much he dreaded her leaving. His own wishes on the subject were irrelevant. It was time to repay his debt.

But how to go about it? Neither of them truly knew how she got here let alone how to reverse the problem. He’d never heard of Thedas, not until Hawke showed up. Was it a different planet? A different dimension perhaps? It sounded highly implausible but then so did everything about Hawke. Both worlds had the Fade, was that the connection? He’d have to find out.

To find out about the planet, one went to Cosmo Canyon. Well then, he had a plan of attack.

He picked up his phone and dialled. He heard the call connect.

“Hawke? This is Genesis.” he said.

“Hi! Hang on, I just- Take that you slimy bastard!” There was a tremendous crash on the other side of the line.

“Hawke?” he asked in concern. What had the mad woman gotten herself into now?

“Just a second. Oh you son of a…” He heard her give a vicious yell. There was a loud crunch and then a splat.

“Right, what were you saying?” she asked, suddenly focused completely on the conversation.

“What on Gaia are you doing? Are you alright?” he looked out the window, as though he expected to spot her somewhere.

“Oh I was just killing a thing. There was a massive standing bounty on it.” She sounded a little breathless.

“What was it?” he asked curiously. He’d heard mention of her no longer shadowing the Cetra but didn’t know she had taken up bounty hunting instead.

“I forget the name; it’s a giant worm thing. I had to trek all the way out to the marshes to find it.”

There was a pause.

“A zolom?” he asked incredulously. “You went _looking_ for a zolom? Do you have a death wish?!” What was she thinking! He knew she was capable but zoloms were challenging kills even for most SOLDIERs. If she ran off and got herself killed he was going to be beyond furious.

“Of course I don’t have a death wish,” she said lightly, completely ignoring his outrage, “though I’d be terribly disappointed if I did since the worm’s just been turned into fertilizer. I do appreciate your concern though.” she finished with false sweetness.

He sighed and restrained himself from rolling his eyes.

“Your dubious occupations aside, I did call for a reason.”

“Oh?”

“I take it you’re still interested in returning to Thedas?”

“Of course! Why, do you know something?” Her enthusiasm was evident.

“No, I’m afraid not.” he said. He could practically hear her excitement deflate on the other end of the line. “But I do know where we might go to investigate. Cosmo Canyon, its people have studied the planet for centuries. If anyone knows how you might have appeared here it would be them.”

“Alright.” she said, sounding interested. “And where is this canyon exactly?”

It was on the next continent but he could get them there. He could put in for a week of leave and requisition a Shinra transport. There were definite perks to being this high up the chain of command, not to mention he hadn’t gone on furlough in who knew how long. Perhaps getting out of Midgar would do him good. Angeal wasn’t likely to wake up for about a fortnight; in the meantime a research trip would do nicely.

In surprisingly little time their excursion was planned. Hawke readily agreed with all his recommendations, he was starting to think she was either incredibly trusting or just unreasonably easy going. She was also far more grateful then he felt he truly deserved but he wasn’t about to tell her that.

* * *

 

Two days later Hawke found herself standing at the helipad at the top of the Shinra building. There were a few people milling about, all looking terribly busy. She leant against the railing, content to wait while everyone else scurried about. Genesis was busy discussing something with the pilot, she couldn’t quite make out the words but she could hear him speaking in what she had come to recognise as his ‘Important Commander Giving Important Orders’ voice.

Behind her she could see the entire city, stretched out beneath her in the early morning haze. It all looked so small and far away. This was the top of the world. You couldn’t make out any of the little people going about their little lives from such a high vantage point. The high winds swept past and had her hair whipping erratically about her face. She preferred being one of the little people.

One of the troopers who was standing on guard duty kept giving her a funny look. She suspected he found it very odd that a random civilian was just lurking about in such a highly restricted area. Such were the joys of having friends in high places. It was something she had made a habit of, though it wasn’t intentionally done, she just always ended up either knowing or killing important people. She winked at the trooper and watched him start and pretend he hadn’t been watching her. She chuckled lightly.

Suddenly the trooper and his fellow guard stood at attention. Everyone on the helipad seemed to stand a little straighter and looked a little unnerved. Everyone except for Genesis who took one look at the elevator that had just opened then went right back to his conversation.

Out of the elevator stepped General Sephiroth. His iconic black leather coat and long silver hair fluttered about in the wind and the guards snapped off textbook salutes.

Hawke had seen the massive posters of him hanging all over the city. The ‘Hero of Wutai’ they proclaimed him, though the half whispered grumblings in the slums called him the ‘demon of Wutai’. She was only slightly shocked to find that he wasn’t twelve foot tall with giant claws. He probably didn’t even breathe fire.

He seemed to be after something but upon not finding it his gaze settled on Hawke. He narrowed his eyes, whether in thought or disapproval she couldn’t tell. He approached her. Everyone else seemed to relax a fraction upon realising they weren’t his target.

“You must be Hawke.” He greeted with a slight nod. His voice was deep and had little inflection. His expression was equally non-forthcoming. Everything about him screamed military, she was distinctly reminded of the Arishok.

“I am. It’s a pleasure to meet you General.” She said with a smile. Did people shake hands here? She couldn’t remember. He hadn’t offered his hand so she didn’t either.

“Genesis has spoken of you.”

“Oh? All good things I hope.” her tone was light and her grin crooked.

“He mentioned you’re a materia expert.” he said, as though it might be a question. Was he fishing for information? It wasn’t a topic she really wanted to discuss. She didn’t technically have a reason for hiding, she was no longer covering for Aerith and there were no Templars, but she had the distinct impression that having exceptional powers was no healthier under Shinra’s rule than it was the Chantry’s.

“I wouldn’t say an expert exactly.” she said. It was true; she’d never so much as held a materia.

“I saw the recording of your fight in the VR room. You certainly know things the rest of us do not. ” his tone gave away nothing but she got the distinct impression she was being studied. His strange eyes, vibrant green with slit pupils like a cat, watched her closely.

“I guess that depends on what you know.” she offered with a smile that wasn’t nearly as humble as she’d intended.

“I know that without your… expertise I would have lost one of my commanders. Perhaps both of them.” he said in a quieter tone, glancing briefly at Genesis out the corner of his eye. “For that you have my thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” she said, meeting his gaze seriously.

“What are you two talking about?” Genesis called, strolling over from where the pilot sat in the helicopter. “I hope you’re not menacing my guest, Sephiroth.”

“Of course not.” The General said, with a barely concealed roll of his eyes.

“We were talking about how amazing I am.” Hawke said in a solemn tone.

“Really?” Genesis asked with a raised brow.

“Of course. What else is there to discuss?” She said dismissively. Genesis snorted.

“Well, assuming you’re finished lauding your achievements then, we’re ready to go.”


	20. Adventuring

The helicopter took Hawke and Genesis half way across the planet and delivered them to a small village about a day’s walk away from Cosmo Canyon. Their intended destination was highly isolated and could only be reached on foot as aircraft caused too much disturbance to the region’s specialized research equipment.

After a quick equipment check and the procurement of a map the Champion and the Soldier began their trek. It wasn’t long before they were surrounded by the rocky vistas distinctive of the Cosmo area.

Genesis was a little taken aback by Hawke’s awe at the scenery. He had seen it all before, despite having never actually been to Cosmo. It was just terrain to be traversed as far as he was concerned. To Hawke however the layered rock towering around them in great rust coloured cliffs was utterly breath-taking. At least her wide eyed stare implied as much. Looking a little embarrassed when he commented, she explained that she had only ever seen the muddy fields of Ferelden and the sodden grey headlands of Kirkwall. The vibrant desert had her enthralled.

Genesis found himself eager to arrive; the Canyon was reputed to have centuries worth of archives. The Cosmo libraries were famous, not just for the sheer volume of books but the incredibly variety as well. Tomes long forgotten by the rest of the world could still be found happily resting in the remote Canyon. One need only take the time to find them. Why hadn’t he done this years ago?

The piercing sun reached its zenith in the empty sky as they marched on beneath it. Genesis instinctively walked at the brisk pace he would take when leading troops and was sternly reprimanded for it. For all her competency Hawke was proving herself a stickler for not doing things the proper way.

“You’re on leave! This is a holiday, stop trying to recreate working conditions.” she had said, shielding her eyes against the harsh light with her hand.

He had grudgingly given in to her insistence, though they still made surprisingly good time. Despite her assertions that they needn’t march anywhere she still kept pace with him and showed no sign of tiring. Trekking everywhere was clearly not a novelty for her.

Even so, the harsh conditions eventually began to drain even Hawke’s enthusiasm for the locale. The endless blue sky and the lack of wind made the heat merciless. It was late in the afternoon when the map led them to a fissure in one of the cliffs. It was the entrance to an extensive cave system that ran right through one of the plateaus and would cut several days off their journey. Finally out of the blistering sun it was so much cooler, but also pitch-black.

Occasional shafts of light did break through the rock, but they weren’t frequent enough to be of much use. Genesis pulled out a flash light and Hawke summoned a softly glowing mage light that floated along ahead of them. They continued on into the caverns, the eerie little lights casting dancing shadows all about them.

The occasional shafts of light changed from merciless white to the faint blue of moonlight. The caves became even darker. Genesis could swear he felt something dangling from the ceiling brush against him.

Then something attacked him.

He jumped back in the nick of time and instinctively cast a fire spell only for the creature to spit clinging webs at him and scuttle back into the darkness. He dodged the projectile and shot forward, slicing the monster in half. He could hear the sounds of Hawke stabbing her own attacker.

“Ugh! Is that-”

“Cave Spiders!” Hawke cried with a glee that was completely at odds with the situation. Another appeared out of the darkness and tried to strike her back. She rolled away and sent an ice spell at the creature which stood at nearly five foot tall. The giant spider reared back, its leathery hide dark and indistinguishable in the poor light and its beady little eyes glinting wickedly.

Countless spiders descended from the ceiling and cracks in the walls. The bobbing blue mage light made them look all the more grotesque and malformed. They slaughtered their way through the swarming creatures, dodging the sticky webbing and acidic venom being spat at them. As he cast a barrier Genesis could see Hawke swinging her staff and casting her own spells next to him. She was laughing with utter delight as she stabbed at the creatures and flung them about the cave.

“What is wrong with you Hawke?” he asked, baffled at her reaction. Who in their right mind would be happy to be swarmed by spiders each the size of a cow?

“I haven’t seen a giant spider since I left Kirkwall!” She called as she pointed her staff. Her magic picked up a group and smashed them against the nearest wall. She smiled viciously at the gory mess. “I didn’t think you even had them on Gaia!”

“How is that something to complain about? Why do you even like these disgusting vermin?” He noticed a cluster of the smaller ones trying to string webbing over the exit. He channelled fire into his sword and ruthlessly sliced through the silken barricade and its weavers.

“Oh, no, I hate the things; the wounded coast is just riddled with the bloody pests. We spent years trying to eradicate them.”

He shot her an incredulous look. “And you’re happy to see them, why exactly?”

“They’re familiar.” she said with a shrug. “Sure, they’re disease ridden horrors but they’re Thedas’ disease ridden horrors.”

He shook his head.

“Whatever makes you happy, Hawke.” he said, burning up the last of the attackers.

“Well, better the enemy you know, right?” she said, renewing the dying mage light.

Ahead of them they could see the arachnids regrouping. Genesis flicked the ichor from his sword and straitened his back. Next to him Hawke’s smile turned feral. If nothing else, he could appreciate how absolutely deadly the two of them were together.

The spiders seemed to have formed groups of nests within the tunnels. As they travelled on they would be attacked in waves until they left the infested pocket behind. 

“This reminds me so much of the Deep roads.” Hawke said, retrieving one of her daggers from a dead spider. “I keep expecting a darkspawn to jump out at me.”

“Fortunately that is one thing we don’t need to worry about.” Genesis said, not bothering to sheath his sword. The spiders would undoubtedly be back sooner or later.

“True. And you don’t complain nearly as much as my company in the Deep Roads. I always took Anders with me and he would drag his feet like a leper with a length of rope.” she said.

He snorted. “Why bother taking him then?”

“He used to be a Grey Warden. He could sense the darkspawn; we never had to worry about being ambushed.” she said as they continued along the path. “It wasn’t always a blessing though. The last time we entered the Roads he almost lost his mind.” she finished quietly.

“Lost his mind? What went wrong?” he asked. He had heard a lot about Hawke’s old companions. Now he felt as though he practically knew the bizarre and colourful characters. Anders, however, was almost never mentioned. He couldn’t say why.

“There was this ancient… creature, locked away within the Deep Roads. He called himself Coyrpheus.” she started haltingly. “I don’t know what he was, an ancient magister maybe, one of the first darkspawn, or perhaps even an unconventional archdemon. All I know is that he was corrupted and very powerful.” she examined her gauntlet and tested the joints, as she so often did when feeling agitated.

“Anders, as a Warden, was also corrupted and started hearing Corypheus’ voice. At first it was just a quiet present in the back of his mind, but then it began whispering to him. Had things worked out differently, well, eventually he would have done whatever the voice asked of him.”

It was a chilling thought. The mention of a ‘quiet presence in his mind’ sounded uncomfortably familiar. Genesis knew that his own mind had been compromised before he was healed. Would the same have eventually happened to him? Would he have become just a spectator in his own mind? He was unfathomably grateful he would never have to find out.

“But Anders did get his mind back.” he said.

“That day, yes.” She said with a bitter twist her lips. That was the last she said about it.

\------------

“Must you loot every single corpse?” Genesis said, watching with exasperation as Hawke rifled through what was surely the thousandth body that day. “There are hundreds of these creatures and not one of them has had anything worth the effort.”

“Yes but this could be the one carrying a one-of-a-kind artefact that will make it all worthwhile.” she said, examining the upturned spider. Her previously melancholic mood had been swept away with the endless wave of monsters.

“Or it could have another completely worthless throw materia.” he said. Where the spiders kept them he had no idea and had no inclination to find out.

“But we’ll never know if I don’t check.” she said with an irritating smile.

“At this rate an age will have passed before we even glimpse the canyon.”

“I didn’t like this age anyway. Aha!” she held up a shining green orb of materia, brandishing it as though it weren’t covered in spider innards. “I wonder what it is.” she pulled it down to eye level and stared through it, trying to divine what it actually did.

Genesis rolled his eyes and stretched out his hand over it.

“Bolt. It’s a lightning materia. I imagine it will respond to you readily enough. It’s completely unlevelled though.”

Hawke’s smile grew as she continued studying the orb.

“So how do I use it?” She sent a tiny lightning spell of her own at the materia which resulted in absolutely nothing. “Okay, not like that.” she said.

“No. Not like that.” Genesis said with a smirk, almost impressed by her cluelessness. “Obviously not like that. If you can conjure electricity without it then why bother with the materia? It’s not as though you need more magic Hawke.”

“Humour me.” she said with a dead pan look.

“Just push unshaped mana into it. It shouldn’t be difficult.” he said, crossing his arms and taking a few steps back from her.

She looked puzzled at him. “What?”

“I’ve seen what you can do with lightning, who knows what you’ll be capable of with materia.”

“Ah. A wise precaution then.” she stretched out her arm, pointing the materia at a cluster of spider corpses a good 25 feet away.

“It may take more energy than usual since it’s so unlevelled.” he said. “Then again, don’t use too much either or it might-”

The materia exploded.

Hawke stood blinking in shock, a fine layer of completely pulverised materia coating her front.

There was a moment of stunned silence before Genesis threw his head back and laughed.

She coughed and started trying to wipe the slightly coarse dust off herself.

“What just happened?” she sounded utterly baffled.

“That would be far too much mana.” He said, still laughing. “What did you do, throw your entire reserve into it?” He snickered with secret delight, it had been quite a blow to his pride to be so ineffectual at her form of magic, he felt rather vindicated to find her equally hopeless at his own form. That and her look of shock when the materia had blown was both hilarious and adorable.

“It wasn’t that funny.” she said with no real bite, her own smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She gave up on getting the materia bits out of her hair and sighed in defeat, a small chuckle escaping her. “Well. Never let it be said I don’t know how to destroy things.”

“I don’t think you were ever in any danger of being called harmless, Hawke. Or anything less than a walking catastrophe.”

“Good to see I haven’t lost my touch.” she said with a smirk, “Who needs materia anyway. Rather I shall stick to electrocuting people with naught but my winning smile.”

\-----------

Still within the cave system, the two walkers eventually stopped for the night. They seemed to have passed or slaughtered the majority of the spiders, but they couldn’t tell how far away the exit was. Even though they were surely almost at their destination Hawke was glad for the rest. The morning’s helicopter flight had covered almost an entire month’s worth of walking but had also left her unusually drained. She theorized that her body was just making sure she didn’t miss out on any of the exhaustion she would have gotten had they walked the entire way.

Now, weary and covered in the burnt remains of countless giant spiders, she sat heavily in the little dead end tunnel they had picked for shelter. She and Genesis had squabbled over the logistics but eventually it was agreed she would cast as many wards and hexes on the entrance as she could and they would just have to rely on those to keep them safe. Their tiny little cave was now warded to the hilt. Any spiders, or mutant wolves or rogue tomatoes or whatever else this planet could think of would be dead a dozen times over before coming within range.

Meanwhile Genesis produced the provisions he had been carrying and prepared their meagre rations. Evidently, awful military rations were a universal truth. Since the roof was so low and they had nothing to burn they lit no fire. Instead they sat around an overcharged mage light and pretended it projected actual heat. Hawke sat picking spider webs out of her hair. Genesis took off his coat and lay back on it, wearing the sleeveless black shirt of his uniform.

Despite being filthy and exhausted and having just finished a meal of chewy cardboard, Hawke hadn’t been this comfortable in months. This was how her life was supposed to look. Awful monsters, miserable surroundings, and entertaining company. Was that too much to ask?

It certainly helped that Genesis looked incredibly fine underneath that coat of his. Not that she was staring. She was most definitely not staring. Her eyes just happened to be passing that way.

She noticed the rather amused look in his eye. He raised an eyebrow.

Caught red handed.

Well, no point in pretending then. Hot damn was he attractive. Hawke had always appreciated a lean but muscled physique and Genesis fit that description in the best way possible. At her thoroughly obvious perusal he chuckled, failing to hide an incredibly smug smile.

Hawke cleared her throat and looked away. What was she doing? Had her dignity suddenly decided it was under appreciated and completely abandoned her? Isabella was probably laughing at her from the afterlife.

“Enjoying the view, Hawke?” he drawled.

“No. Well, yes, obviously.” She really didn’t see that the point needed expanding upon. The bastard’s ego suffered from no lack of pampering.

“Even while I’m covered in dirt and spider guts?” he asked with a teasing smile. “Is that considered attractive in Thedas? Or is it just you?” she could see his eyes laughing at her as they glinted in the light. Well, this situation was clearly beyond saving, she may as well roll with it.

“You’re asking about my kinks and fetishes Genesis? You haven’t even bought me dinner yet.” she said with a coy smile.

“Well, I did provide the MREs.” He said with false haughtiness.

“Mm, cold pasta with dried meat from one of seven possible animals. You certainly know how to show a girl a good time.”

“Second course will be roast spider.”

\----------

The next day saw them leaving the cave system at the crack of dawn. Regardless of poetic niceties Genesis was still a military commander with very firm ideas about efficiency. Which apparently included absurdly early wake up calls to reach a place that clearly wasn’t going anywhere. Hawke’s decade of experience with Aveline’s equally strict regulations was the only thing that stopped her from electrocuting him into the next life. His assurances that he wasn’t a morning person either weren’t particularly comforting to the sleep addled Hawke who was still trying to remember why they were in a cave.

Almost an hour of trekking later and they left the tunnels, emerging from within the cliff to be faced with Cosmo Canyon itself. The little town built atop a rocky hill in the middle of the canyon was just bathed in the first rays of dawn. The dome of an observatory and the red stair cases leading up to the town practically glowed in the day’s first light. It was so beautiful both of them just stood and watched for a minute.

Of course it was less beautiful when they were actually climbing those endless star cases which had apparently been made for people with indecently long legs. Halfway up they stopped at a tiny landing before tackling the never ending ladder that would lead to the next landing. The view around them was no less spectacular; the red rock cliffs appeared to be almost on fire. It was well worth the effort.

Hawke turned to continue the climb when she suddenly paused.

“What?” Genesis asked, noticing she was staring at him. Her eyes narrowed.

“I was just thinking, isn’t it a shame neither of us have the inexplicable ability to fly.” she said dryly. “Just imagine how much time and effort we could have saved if one of us had, oh I don’t know, wings?”

His step faltered. His expression was embarrassed for a split second before becoming carefully blank.

“It would have drawn too much attention.” he said.

“Yes, I’m sure the barren wasteland would have told all of its friends.” she deadpanned.

“And you would have missed out on seeing your arachnid compatriots.” he said lightly.

She laughed and began ascending the ladder.

“How terribly considerate of you.” she said.

“Yes it was, wasn’t it?”


	21. Answers in need of Questions

Aerith sat tending her garden and smiled at Zack’s excited chatter. He had just been promoted to First Class and was so thrilled he had sprinted the whole way here to tell her. Now he was explaining all his plans as a newly minted first class and was starting to ramble, as he tended to do when over excited. She just smiled and continued weeding the flower bed. He was talking about a cadet he planned to mentor when Aerith heard a rush of whispers swelling around her.

She sighed slightly, hearing the planets murmurings start to drown out her boyfriend.

This had been happening more and more lately. The life stream was becoming agitated and kept having little panic attacks. It was disturbed like she’d never seen it before. Aerith had been woken up more than once by the anxious murmurs in her head. She had been meaning to ask Hawke about it. There was so much she had learnt since meeting the older mage but there was also so much she didn’t understand yet. Hawke would surely know what to make of it.

She had tried to find the cause for all this fretting; but the planet was trying to shield her from it, whatever it was. Even so she had discerned a few distinct words amidst the incomprehensible whispers.

The first word she picked out was Outsider. It was always said quietly as though afraid of the very term itself. Surely it didn’t mean Hawke? She wasn’t anything to be worried about, she was a friend! No, it couldn’t be, Hawke was Visitor now, not Outsider.

The planet had hushed abruptly when she asked it who the Outsider was. It didn’t want to answer. Whether it was protecting her or just didn’t want to face the reality itself, she didn’t know.

Finally, hesitantly, the whispers spoke of something very old; something it had thought vanquished but again stood on the horizon. Something familiar and yet foreign.

And that something was waking up. 

Again she asked what it was.

The life stream’s whisperings grew quieter, pulling away from her. It gave one last word before fading away entirely.

The Calamity.

“Aerith? You okay?”

“Huh?” She blinked, remembering where she was. Zack was looking at her in concern.

“You drifted off for a moment there. Are you alright?”

“Yes! Sorry, I didn’t mean to. I was just thinking.” She hadn’t told Zack what she was or that she heard the life stream but he was picking up on some of her more unusual habits.

“You looked like you were listening to something.” he said with a curious smile. She couldn’t help but love how easily he took her oddities in stride. She would explain everything to him soon. But not yet.

“The Flowers. They were complaining about not getting enough attention. They’re quite greedy.” she said with cheeky smile. “Now, tell me about this cadet.”

Accepting her excuse, he launched back into their previous conversation.

\------------

'This is an unreasonable amount of stairs.' Hawke thought as she trudged to the top of Cosmo Canyon’s little village. Genesis had the advantage of being enhanced and didn’t even seem to notice that they’d been climbing stair cases and rickety ladders for what felt like hours.

They’d been let into the town rather grudgingly. Genesis had been recognized immediately and while the town apparently wasn’t very fond of Shinra they knew better then to deny them. Hawke felt a little bad for that, but there wasn’t anything to be done. It was hardly the first time she had coasted on a friend’s position to get something. She made sure to return the favour and considered it a nonissue.

When the guard had asked their business she had said that they were here to study the planet. He told them they were welcome to look through the libraries and that any question were to be directed to the town’s Elders. Now that they were actually here, Hawke had to admit she didn’t really expect them to have any information regarding Thedas at all. That didn’t stop her from hoping.

Having found the inn and cleaned away the filth of travel the two of them were now looking for the elusive Elders. Given the rather vague nature of their inquiry the town’s people had directed them to Elder Bugenhagen. 

The Elder was to be found right at the top of the town in his observatory. The giant dome of a telescope and a wealth of satellite dishes loomed overhead. The brazen display of advanced technology was in startling contrast to the rest of the town’s homey, artisanal feel. Hawke felt more at home amidst the rickety wooden structures and oil lanterns then she ever had in Midgar.

On the way to the observatory she and Genesis had argued over what to tell the Elders. Genesis was in favour of full disclosure for the sake of getting better answers. Hawke however didn’t want to tell any more then absolutely necessary. Genesis didn’t see the need for secrecy. Shinra had no faith in the claims of the Canyon and who else would care?

“Besides,” he had said, “you’re incredibly powerful, what do you have to fear?”

To her it just didn’t feel right. Perhaps it was the result of living as an apostate for so long. Giving away information to people she didn’t know went against decades’ worth of ingrained caution. In the end they settled for a compromise, Hawke would give as few details as possible at first and but would tell them more when asked or as the need arrived. Neither was happy with the arrangement which meant it was the only thing either would settle for.

They found the elusive Elder Bugenhagen in the very top level of the entire construct. He was at a cluttered work station, squished between a sink, a fridge, a kitchen bench and various barrels of strong smelling alcohol. He was old and thin, with a bald head and a long grey beard. His hands were hidden in the long billowy sleeves of a blue coat that was almost a robe.

As they drew closer Hawke saw that he wasn’t actually standing but sitting cross legged on a floating green ball, hovering about three feet off the ground. She couldn’t feel any magic around the bizarre sight so she just ignored it. She was well past the stage of being awed by this world’s oddities.

“Please, just call me Bugen!” He exclaimed after they introduced themselves. “Studying the planet you say?” He gave a strange chuckle that ended with a wheeze “Are you sure the planet isn’t studying you?” He looked at them with an odd grin.

“If it is, then we’re returning the favour.” Hawke said. He gave another odd laugh. If not for the intelligent glint in his eyes magnified by his tiny glasses she would have assumed he wasn’t quite right in the head. She was distinctly reminded of the twisted form of Xenon the Antiquarian, incredibly eccentric but fiercely intelligent. Genesis just raised an eyebrow at the strange little man.

“Anything in particular you were looking for? I can point you in the right direction.” Bugen said, turning mostly serious.

“We’re looking for information on the Fade- uh, the Life stream, I mean.” said Hawke.

“I see, of course, of course. But why do you need our information? I understood that Shinra had its own experts on the subject?” asked the floating old man, giving Genesis a piercing look.

“We are not here on company business. We are here out of curiosity.” said Genesis. “This isn’t about mako.”

“Oh but of course it is! The life stream is mako after all; you can’t separate the two you know.”

“Alright, but we’re not asking about lifestream as a substance but rather as a… realm. Or a dimension perhaps.” said Hawke, wondering what his reaction would be. “Does that make any sense?” She was well aware of this world’s bizarre disconnect between the physical and the spiritual. Everyone relied on mako for everyday life while pretending that magic wasn’t a thing. Even materia weren’t considered magical, despite clearly being exactly that.

There was a pause.

“Do you mean the promised land?” Bugen said, looking at her curiously.

“I don’t know, do I?” Hawke asked.

“Hmmm.” He gave Genesis an assessing look. “Only curiosity you say?”

“Call it a personal matter. Shinra has no part in this.” said Genesis.

“I see. Very well! Come with me! You have come this far, I will be a good host.” he declared, floating up and over the table and into the next room.

“The promised land was a Cetra legend, said to be a fertile land of infinite mako, a magical realm from which all magic flows.” he said as they followed after him. “Some say it is the life stream itself, others say it’s just a metaphor for death. Who knows if it exists at all?”

“Only in our dreams presumably.” Hawke said, with a small smile.

Bugen paused again. His floating seat turned until he was facing her.

“You are an intriguing young lady.” he said with a knowing twinkle in his eye, “And smarter then you want me to think. But if you already know, then why ask me?”

“You’re the expert.” she said with a shrug. “If the Fade- sorry, life stream, promised land whatever- is a different realm, could be other realms beyond that? Different worlds entirely perhaps?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. Why not?” He led them into a large room filled with papers and a variety of contraptions she couldn’t name. After a good deal of nattering and pressing buttons and flipping levers, he gestured for them to stand on a circular platform. Some hidden mechanism engaged and the three of them were lifted up into the dome of the roof.

“I don’t have the luxury of dreaming in the lifestream myself but this is how records have described it.” As he spoke the curved metal walls faded away and were replaced with a swirling green that was almost but not quite that of the Fade. Hawke grinned at the holographic Virtual Reality and was unreasonably pleased with herself for spotting the inaccuracies. The texture was wrong and everything was too bright.

“Now, according to the Ancient Cetra, millennia ago there was a distant light forever glowing in the lifestream. It was said to be a great gleaming city and a hallowed place.” A golden light shone out in the holographic distance. It was so far away its shape could only just be discerned.

“The Golden City. The seat of the Maker.” Hawke said. There wasn’t a single human on Thedas who didn’t know that story. She stared at the tiny silhouette. Having seen the remains of the city all her life, Hawke thought the little picture was completely inaccurate.

“Some of the Cetra ventured out towards the city, though they never quite reached it, they were said to have discovered strange new lands beyond Gaia itself. But then the light suddenly went out.” As they watched the golden glow died, taking some of the brightness with it. The distant city couldn’t be seen at all.

“It had been the only consistent point in the lifestream and without it the Cetra who had gone exploring couldn’t find their way back. With nothing to guide them, the children of Gaia stopped travelling through the lifestream and the technique was lost.” Bugen sounded a little wistful as he spoke. “That’s all the legends have to say on the matter anyway.” he finished.

There was a moment of silence as they took in the tale. It was probably just a curious anecdote to Genesis and Bugen, but to her it meant something more. She knew the other half of the story.

“The Ancient Magisters.” She said, focusing on where the golden light had been. “They once reigned in the waking world, but it wasn’t enough for them. They became jealous of the Maker’s glory and invaded his city. In breaching it they tarnished that holy place, their pride and insolence turning it black. In punishment the Magisters were cast back down as the first darkspawn whose corruption would infect the world. Now the Black City hangs in the Fade above Thedas, an eternal reminder of our hubris, and the price to be paid.” Her voice was unusually sombre. She had lived her entire life in the shadow of the Black city, as did everyone on Thedas, mage or otherwise.

“That’s where the blight came from?” Genesis asked.

“Apparently. It’s what the Chantry teaches anyway.” She brushed off the shadows the past.

“Then how did I…?” he began quietly, looking confused.

“How indeed.” said Hawke. Some days she wondered if there really was any sense to be made of it all.

Bugen was watching the two of them and looking a little baffled. His eyes however were calculating.

“I’ve never heard that legend.” he said. It almost sounded like a challenge.

Hawke sighed and ignored the pointed look Genesis gave her.

“You wouldn’t. It isn’t told on Gaia.” she said.

Bugen just looked at her for a moment before giving his strange laugh, watching her curiously as he wheezed.

“I see, I see. An intriguing lady indeed. Lost yourself have you?”

“I know exactly where I am. It’s my entire world I appear to have misplaced.” she said grudgingly.

“That sounds like quite the feat.” he said, floating round in circles in thought. Hawke had expected a little more confused disbelief at her claim.

“I take it you wish to return to wherever these legends come from then?” he asked, suddenly looking at her again.

“If at all possible.”

“Hmmmm. I’m not a true expert on the lifestream, or the promised land. You’d need a Cetra for that, and there aren’t any of those left I’m afraid. However, I am an expert on the planet itself.”

The swirling green faded away into the metal walls, only to be replaced by a star filled void. In the centre a mini solar system was suspended in thin air, spinning gracefully on its axis. Bugen led them to the holographic version of Gaia. Hawke was now incredibly familiar with its lands, having spent countless hours starring at its maps hoping for any kind of revelation.

“This, as you probably already know, is Gaia and its lifestream.” A faint green mist encased the planet, swirling this way and that over the continents. “I never put much stock in the idea of finding other lands through the lifestream. It is the very life blood of our planet, how could it lead elsewhere?”

“I don’t know.” Hawke said, “All I do know is that I’m not from around here. Gaia isn’t my world. Even the Fade isn’t the same here; you can’t see the Black City.” But what did it mean? How far did you have to go before even the eternally dark city disappeared? She had always been told it wasn’t possible to escape it.

“Hmmm. Very curious.” Bugen put his chin on sleeve covered hand and looked thoughtful.

“You couldn’t travel through the Fade like the legends?” Genesis asked.

“I doubt it.” she said shaking her head. “Nobody’s tried since the Magisters. I wouldn’t even know where to start. And Aerith doesn’t know anything either.” she said in a quiet aside.

They stood in silence, contemplating the conundrum. The little globe rotated on; unaware of the three people staring at it, wondering what secrets it held.

“Well, I guess the libraries might have something. It’s worth a look.” said Bugen, looking a little sad at not having solved the mystery.

“Yeah.” said Hawke. It had always been a long shot. They remained standing quietly amidst the spinning celestial bodies.

One of the larger planets passed behind Gaia, her eyes followed it lazily.

Something in her mind clicked. She froze, her eyes now glued to the second planet.

“What is that?” she demanded, walking over to it, unsure if she wanted her eyes to be lying or not.

“Eh? Oh, those are just the other planets in our solar system. We don’t know much about them, just what fuzzy telescope pictures show us.”

She stood in front of the planet with its little moon trailing after it. Her mind seemed to have crashed, unsure how to process what she was seeing. She raised a hand to the blurry globe and hesitantly touched it. An expectant silence surrounded her as she stared at the hologram. Her fingers traced the faint outline of a continent.

“Hawke?” Genesis asked.

She knew what she was looking at. She had never been a scholar but this she would recognize anywhere.

“This is wrong.” she said with an empty voice. Her throat was suddenly very dry. “There’s meant to be a mountain range here. It separates Ferelden and the Dales.” she brushed a shaking hand over the indistinct land mass. “This is Orlais. And Nevarra.” Her voice stayed deceptively steady as she listed the nations of her home world.

“The Free Marches.” Her finger came to rest on a tiny point on the southern end of a continent.

“Kirkwall.” Her hand dropped. She let out a shaky breathe.

“This is Thedas.” She said bleakly. To her own ears it sounded like a judge’s hammer slamming down on a desk, decreeing her sentence. She looked back at the two men, their eyes flitting between her and the spinning globe.

“How did this happen?” she asked, either to them or the Maker himself, desperate for an answer of any kind.

\------------

Hawke stood on the balcony outside of Bugen’s observatory. She was looking at a fantastic view and seeing none of it. She wasn’t even entirely sure how she had gotten out of the VR room.

Reluctantly her head drifted up to the clear blue sky. Somewhere up there, beyond the atmosphere, the moon, and the countless light years of cold empty space, was Thedas. Somehow.

She didn’t even know why she was so bothered by this. She had known since the very beginning that she wasn’t on Thedas anymore, what had she really expected? It wasn’t as though this was the first bizarre thing to happen to her. So why was her mind having a screaming fit over it?

“How the hell did I jump planets?” she burst out, demanding answers of the wind that whistled past. “It isn’t possible! I don’t care what magic is involved; the Fade just doesn’t work like that!”

“But the Fade isn’t the same here.” said a voice behind her.

She spun around; Genesis was standing watching her, leaning against the wall.

“That only makes it all the more impossible! It’s just… How am I supposed to get back? I don’t have another lyrium idol to destroy.” she looked down, trying to list her options and coming up with nothing. “How am I supposed to fix this?”

“You’re assuming that it’s broken.” he said, crossing his arms.

“What?” she blinked at him.

He sighed, looking a little irritated.

“Hawke, chances are you can’t go back. But is that really a problem?”

“Of course it is!” she said, staring at him as though he’d grown a second head.

“Why?” he demanded.

“Why? Because my entire world, everything that makes me who I am, everything I’ve ever fought for, is completely out of my reach!” she said, voice getting louder as she ranted on. “How can you even ask that?”

“You can be an apostate here without having to suffer in a disease ridden world that doesn’t even have electricity.” he said with disdain.

“Thedas is MY world!” She yelled, stepping closer to him “I don’t care if it beneath your standards, it’s still mine!”

“And it has disowned you!” he yelled back, standing closer in challenge “Your world hates you for what you are. For Gaia’s sake Hawke, what is wrong with you? Are you such a fool that you miss being trampled upon?”

“I miss belonging somewhere! Is that so hard to understand?” she demanded.

“How can you miss what you’ve never had?” he said scathingly “Thedas never wanted you to begin with; don’t waste your time on something so futile.”

She looked at him bitterly.

“Is that why you didn’t bother looking into this?” she asked coldly, her magic shifting just under the skin in banked up anger.

His eyes narrowed.

“I brought you here didn’t I?”

“Yeah, now that your corruption’s gone.” she said, looking him squarely in the eye. “So what’s the problem, you’re afraid of a relapse? I didn’t think you were that selfish.”

“I didn’t think you were this delusional.” he bit out, starring her down. “You are an apostate whose friends are all dead.”

In a rush of sudden rage Hawke snapped. The spell she had barely noticed forming in her thoughts hit Genesis at point blank range, blasting him off the balcony before she could even blink. A second later there was a tremendous crash from below followed by a lot of swearing.


	22. Douse the Fire with Gasoline

"I didn't think you were this delusional. You are an apostate whose friends are all dead."

Hawke's mind blast slammed into Genesis and pushed him right off the balcony. The sounds of impact and things breaking told Hawke he hadn't drawn his wing but gone straight through the wooden awning on the lower level. The accompanying torrent of curses told her exactly what he thought of her outburst.

A little surprised at her own violence, Hawke leaned over the balcony to see the damage. She instantly leapt back, only just dodging the scorching fireball that flew up at her. Genesis was back on his feet already and scowling at her from a cast iron rooftop. At the smell of her own singed hair, her anger was roaring back to life and she lifted a hand to throw lightning at the arrogant, self-centred, pretentious little son of a-

"Mummy! There's a man on our roof!"

Hawke's spell died in her hand. Both she and Genesis saw the little boy staring up at them. He was a scruffy little kid and standing far too close; it was a wonder Genesis hadn't crushed him when he fell. They both glanced at the other before reluctantly relaxing. Killing each other was one thing, but civilian casualties were a different matter entirely.

Hawke retreated back indoors, leaving Genesis to deal with the locals.

\--------------

A few hours later Hawke was standing in Bugen's kitchen and glaring at an innocent bottle of dishwashing liquid. She had stalked around the observatory for a bit after her argument with Genesis until the floating old man had recruited her to help wash dishes. She didn't particularly mind, so long as she didn't have to talk about why she had just thrown a high level blast spell at a friend.

"Is the young man alright? I heard he fell off the balcony." Bugen asked, from where he worked at the kitchen table next to her, surrounded by mountains of potato peelings.

Hawke glared at the dishwashing liquid a little more. She closed her eyes when it started melting.

"Yeah, don't worry about him. He'll be fine." she said, almost managing to sound casual.

"Are you sure? That's quite a fall."

"Don't you know? SOLDIERs can handle anything." she said, sounding far more cynical then was entirely necessary. Hawke wasn't the type to stay angry for long, but Genesis' comments had hit far too close to home and she didn't want to admit that.

On some level she was concerned. She knew her own temper could be sudden and cruel when awoken but at least it passed quickly. Genesis however could hold a grudge like few others. She didn't want to lose one of her only friends here.

On the other hand, who the hell did that bastard think he was, calling her delusional? Calling Thedas a disease ridden backwater pile of- okay so he didn't actually say all that but it was implied. And while the description was technically accurate, that wasn't the point, it was her world and he had no business telling her to just move on.

She knew she would eventually apologize for hitting him, just not while she could still hear his accusing tone bouncing around in her head.

"Hm. SOLDIERs aren't usually that clumsy though, are they?" Bugen asked, peeling another potato and adding it to the ever growing pile. Apparently being an Elder didn't excuse him from scullery duty. He didn't look up as he spoke but she could hear the note of curiosity in his voice.

She sighed, fairly certain that Bugen was going to drag her into a conversation one way or another.

"He isn't clumsy. I pushed him." With the sort of spell she usually reserved for flattening ogres. "You didn't hear all the yelling?"

"I thought it rude to listen."

"You didn't miss out on much." she said. It came out a little more abruptly then she'd intended. Bugen paused in his attack on the vegetables, apparently he'd heard the implied 'I don't want to talk about it.'

He cleared his voice and tactfully changed the subject.

"You know I never thought I'd meet someone from a different planet. It's mind boggling! What is it like? How does Gaia compare?"

"It's completely different." she said with a wistful smile. "And yet, it's exactly the same. Politics, power struggles, friends and enemies. We even speak the same language. Nothing new under the sun." Take away the window dressing and the two were surprisingly similar. That was a little weird now that she thought about it.

"Really?" he asked, looking quite disappointed. "No major differences?"

"The Fade's a different colour."

He harrumphed at that and returned his focus to the potatoes. Something seemed to occur to him and he paused, looking at Hawke warily.

"You're not here to hurt Gaia are you?" he asked with narrowed eyes. She didn't miss the way his eyes flitted to the filleting knife she was washing.

She snorted. "Bugen, the only thing I want to do to Gaia is escape it." She certainly wouldn't attack it with a borrowed kitchen knife. She had her own set.

His expression changed from suspicious to vaguely insulted.

"Is our world truly so terrible?" he asked with a sniff.

"It's not that. It's just… it isn't mine. Everything is so different here that I know I don't belong, and yet it's similar enough that I'm constantly being reminded of home. Even the magic here is weird." she knew she was sulking but dammit, she was sick of putting on a brave face.

"Ah but that is just the joy of moving to a new home." Bugen said, giving her a small smile.

He grew slightly sombre at Hawke's unimpressed expression. After studying her for a moment he sighed and quietly spoke.

"Is what the young man said true? That all your friends have died?" he leaned away as he asked, as though he expected her to either break down or violently explode. Fortunately for him Hawke was no longer so tightly wound as to throw spells at whoever looked at her funny.

"I thought you said it was rude to listen?" she asked with a crooked grin that was at least half genuine.

"I'm a rude old man." he said with a little laugh.

"Yes you are, Bugen." She should have known he would be eavesdropping, the nosey old coot. She just wished he could have asked about literally anything else.

"It is true. All bar two of them… are dead." There, she had said it aloud. She could face the past. She wasn't delusional, thanks you very much Mr. Rhapsodos.

Bugen was giving her a pitying look that really wasn't helping.

"I lost most of my family years ago. But I found a new family when I moved to Kirkwall." she continued, "We fought alongside each other and I protected them as my own. Fenris and Varric… what if they need me?" She looked down at her soapy hands. "I don't know what to do without them."

"Find new people to fight for." he said it as though it were the simplest thing in the world. Going by the sad look in his eye, she figured he knew a thing or two about loss. "And then throw them off my balcony when they irritate you." he finished with a sudden grin.

Hawke snorted at that. "Genesis doesn't need my protection."

"Perhaps then you should stop looking for people to protect and try fighting side by side instead."

Her brow drew down at that.

"I do fight alongside people." She wasn't given to heroics; she didn't want glory or recognition. None of her friends had needed protecting… okay, so she had occasionally stood between them and their demons; Fenris with Danarius, Isabela with the Arishok, Merrill and Anders with their far more literal demons, but that was just what good friends did, wasn't it? There was nothing wrong with finding satisfaction in aiding her friends.

The fact that most of her friends were outcasts with no one else to turn to was just coincidence. She got along with high maintenance troublemakers; that wasn't news. She wondered what that said about her. Her brow crinkled in thought.

Bugen took her silence as a good sign and gave his funny laugh.

"Ho ho ho, self-knowledge is a goal few of us achieve, but you seem to be making good progress." he said, bobbing up and down on his floating ball. "Now go find that young man and apologize to the friend you do have."

That snapped her out of her contemplations.

"Oh no, he'll be insufferable now. I'll apologize later, when he's cooled down a bit. Besides, he was damn well asking for it." she said, waving her hand dismissively and flicking soapsuds everywhere.

Bugen gave her a look that was somewhere between sceptical and reprimanding.

"It was just one hit!"

He raised a bristly eyebrow.

"I'll make it up to him." Hawke mumbled, rolling her eyes. "Perhaps I shall send him a fruit basket." she finished sarcastically.

\----------------

Hawke didn't run into Genesis for the rest of the day. Given how small Cosmo was, that was quite an achievement, and one she appreciated. She wasn't ready to be apologetic yet and was fairly sure the only other option involved insults, fireballs, and lightning bolts.

Instead she had spoken with the other Elders, each of whom spoke a lot and said very little, effectively soaking up the rest of her day. After a restless night on a thin mattress that was clearly stuffed with gravel, she rose uncharacteristically early, ready to face the day for lack of better options.

The Canyon seemed to have its own traditions and way of life that she was going to adhere to whether she liked it or not. This she discovered when an elderly woman confiscated her armour and leathers for cleaning after she took a shower. She stood wrapped in a fluffy towel, clutching her gauntlet to her chest while she argued bitterly over letting the wizened old lady make off with her only clothes. Under any other circumstances Hawke would have fought bitterly to ensure nobody other than herself got to touch that armour, but the old woman was scarier than the Arishok. A resigned Hawke relinquished the blood stained armour and instead dressed in the local garb she was provided with.

Now she sat on a little balcony feeling very small and exposed in some kind of knitted poncho affair as the sun considered rising.

The entire canyon was shrouded in mist. All she could see were a few lone buttes peaking up out of the grey haze. It would probably turn into another brilliant cloudless day but the sun wasn't high enough to burn away the mists yet. As it was the vista was melancholy in its own desolate beauty. It was a little like Sundermount on a misty morning, if you swapped the green for red and the vicious Dalish elves for armour pinching old ladies.

The dreary morning was matched by her far less fired up thoughts. Any remaining anger had seeped away during the night and now she felt like a right idiot. She would have to track down Genesis sooner or later and make some sort of peace offering. She knew what he was like; if she waited for him to apologize they'd be giving each other the silent treatment for the next three decades. Fortunately her ego was very flexible and had gotten rather used to humble pie.

A door to her right swung open. Out of the corner of her eye she saw another poncho clad figure exit the inn and breathe in the morning air.

Wait.

She turned to make sure she wasn't mistaken and burst out laughing at the sight of Genesis clad in a homespun wool wrap thing and overly patched brown trousers. He looked utterly ridiculous.

He turned to scowl at her, before stopping in surprise.

"Hawke?" he asked incredulously.

"The cleaning fiend got you as well huh?" she asked with a crooked grin. Gone was the tall and imposing commander, now he looked lanky and kind of adorable. Not that she'd tell him that. If only she had a camera.

"You look so… small." he said with a smirk "And utterly absurd." He'd never seen her out of her armour. It had always done a good job of making her look more impressive than she actually was. Where once she was all pointy metal and reinforced leather she was now drowning in scratchy shapeless wool two sizes too big for her.

"This is the height of poncho fashion, I'll have you know." she said, flapping her arms to see the sides billow out comically.

Genesis snorted, and shook his head, failing to cover his laugh. Hawke hadn't expected them to get along so well today.

"You look completely harmless." he said dryly. "A shame I know better. The illusion is wasted."

And there it was. Hawke sighed. The time for stalling had come and gone.

"Genesis." she said, "I am sorry. I shouldn't have attacked you; I shouldn't have said what I did either." Given his guarded expression there was no way to tell if the temperamental soldier was going to collaborate in her peace-making efforts.

"I just… No, I won't make excuses. You pissed me off so I lashed out. You didn't deserve that. You have my deepest apologies."

"You're right." he said after a pause, "I didn't deserve that."

She had to remind herself she was apologizing and not going to start up another spat.

"Is that code for 'apology accepted'?" she asked dryly, focusing on the view.

"I suppose it is." he sighed and sat down next to her, their legs dangling over the edge. The mists were slowly dissipating as the sun started to peak through.

"Perhaps… I could have used a little more tact." he said hesitantly.

That was probably the closest she'd get to admission of guilt from him so she made the most of it.

"And maybe I could have used a slightly less powerful spell."

"Maybe?!" he exclaimed incredulously "You could have pulverised me with that attack! You're lucky I'm as enhanced as I am or I would have been dead before I even hit the ground!"

"Yeah but you are enhanced so you're fine- wait, are you? Damn, are you hurt? Here let me fix it." she poked his side, sending a sputtering healing spell at him. He gasped and jerked away. She poked him again, searching out any wounds.

"Ah, no I'm fine- oh your hands are cold!" he cried out, pushing away her hands to halt their examination. He didn't seem hurt, but his squeal had Hawke grinning wickedly. All thoughts of serious conversation were swept away with the discovery that Genesis was ticklish. He let out a most undignified giggle as she poked him again.

He finally grabbed her hands and held them securely.

"Keep that up and it'll be your turn to get thrown over a balcony." he said, giving her the most reprimanding glare he could muster.

"I said I'm sorry didn't I?" she offered with an impish grin.

He snorted and turned back to the valley spread out before them. The last of the mist had parted leaving the rocks glistening in the light of dawn.

\-----------

The rest of the day was spent in the libraries. The archives were huge and labyrinthine; there was no end of books to choose from. Unlike Midgar's libraries which were mostly electronic and governed by angry librarians who didn't want you looking at their precious books anyway, this place was an endless collection of dusty tomes that could be accessed by anyone with eyes. Or fingers, given the extensive braille collect.

Hawke resigned herself to the task at hand and began sorting through what she could. There was a bit of everything to be found, from scientific journals on planetary alignment to collections of ancient mythology. She even found a book of bawdy limericks about improper materia use that brought her endless amusement. Somewhere amoungst it all she was hoping to find something solid about Thedas.

Hawke was not much of a scholar. She never had been, even her magic she had learnt mostly through trial and error instead of book study. It didn't help that half the volumes were in languages only found on Gaia. The entire Wutai and Mideel sections were left in Genesis' capable hands.

While Hawke's enthusiasm for the task drained fairly quickly, Genesis was utterly enthralled. This was clearly his element and she left him to it. There didn't appear to be much that was relevant but he was practically salivating over the endless tomes. She wondered if she'd ever be able to drag him out again.

After a few hours of searching the archives Hawke fled blinking into the sunlight. Genesis could handle the library, she would talk to the locals. This was more her style, invading the lives of random people and somehow ending up hearing their life stories. So the day passed pleasantly enough, both being nosey and inquiring in their preferred manner.

\------------

"You wouldn't believe the volumes they have here. The number of first editions, the unusual translations, it's more than I could have imagined." Genesis said, gesturing grandly as he often did when excited. "I found a centuries' old commentary on Loveless that I'd never even heard of!"

They had finished their studies and had a small dinner at the inn. They were now just relaxing at the Cosmo Candle, a bonfire that constantly burned in the heart of the village. A few of the locals were hanging around it as well but for the most part it was just the two of them sitting on the large raised platform that housed the Candle.

"And you were so shocked, you dropped your monocle." Hawke said with a grin.

"I don't have a monocle." Genesis said, pausing in his animated speech.

"Don't worry, I'll buy you one."

"My eyesight is fine." he said dryly.

"Even when reading all that dusty poetry? You don't feel a burning need to have a monocle to wave around? It'd be very dramatic." she said with a wry smile. He had been regaling her with his discoveries for some time now. She didn't mind, even if most of it went right over her head. She had expected no less.

"Hawke, don't you dare start insulting my taste in literature." he said with a sniff.

"Alright, alright. Tell me about the commentary."

"No, you had your chance. I'll not have you mock it."

"Fine." she said with a longsuffering sigh, knowing he wouldn't last about a minute before launching into his literary discussion again. He just couldn't help himself.

"Although, I did read something about the Fade I was wondering about."

Not even thirty seconds.

"Oh?" she asked, with a raised brow. "What was it?"

"All the descriptions I've come across make it out as just empty clay islands, but I've always found myself in groves of Banora White trees. There didn't use to be any in Midgar, but a year or so after I moved there the trees began appearing again." From his expression she'd say he had been curious about this for some time. The fact that for all the meticulous record keeping she was still seen as the expert was a little bizarre in her eyes.

"The Fade is personalized." she said, recalling what her Father had taught her. "It changes according to the minds that populate it. You associate the trees with comfort and familiarity, so as you grew more comfortable in Midgar and the Fade itself, I imagine the trees sprouted up around you."

"The Fade hasn't changed to accommodate you." he pointed out.

"I haven't been here long enough yet. I used to be followed by fruit laden blackberry bushes and babbling brooks." she smiled at the recollection. Her nights had once been filled with playing in the familiar stream with little Bethany.

"Is that what your hometown looked like?" he asked, leaning back on his hands and crossing his legs at the ankle.

"Yeah, Lothering. Sweet little place, very few Templars. As I grew older though, and learnt to never drop my guard in the Fade the bushes turned into vicious towering gorse bushes and the brook became a deep and powerful river. Nowhere near as pretty but it made it a lot harder to be snuck up on."

"The wandering soul knows no rest." he quoted idly, giving her a curious look. "You don't always have to keep your guard up, Hawke, not here. Not with me."

She turned her head away. He placed a finger under her chin and guided her face back to look at him.

"You know, you were right yesterday. I don't want you to go back to Thedas. Both because I don't want you to be stranded in a world that hates you." His voice lowered to a whisper, "And for my own selfish reasons. I want you to stay." His finger traced her cheek.

"However, I owe you my life." he said, straightening again and letting his hand fall. "If you want to return… you have my support, regardless of my own thoughts on the subject. If that is what you want."

She looked at him and wrestled with her thoughts. What did she want? She placed her hand on his chest and held it there. She focused on it instead of his face which she knew was studying her intently.

"We can't always have what we want." she said quietly.

"No. We can't." he said, his voice bleak.

Her fingers dug into the texture of his shirt. Her eyes drifted back up to his face.

"And if I wanted to stay? Then what?"

He placed his hand over hers and slowly brought it up to his lips. He gently kissed the back of her hand.

"Then I'd have to find another way to repay you."


	23. Dancing on the Precipice

Green strands of earth magic surged up out of the ground and dragged a wounded griffin back down into the rocky depths to suffocate.

Hawke leant casually against her staff, looking with satisfaction at the result of her casting. She and Genesis were standing on one of the plateaus by the Canyon, surrounded by the remains of a once dangerous a flock of griffins that had been getting too close to the village. The sky was overcast and there was a biting wind whipping about them. Fortunately they had gotten their own clothing back from the fearsome cleaning lady and were both feeling much more comfortable in their own armour, rather than ill-fitting homespun ponchos.

Since they were getting free access to the Canyon, Bugen had hinted that maybe they could clear out some of the nearby monsters as a courtesy. Hawke had been all for it and though Genesis had taken a little more convincing, she had eventually dragged him out of the libraries with minimal complaining on his part.

Hawke had been fascinated at the mention of griffons but when they came into view she was deeply disappointed. There were legends of the ancient Grey Wardens riding them into battle, but unless the old wardens had been incredibly small it was unlikely the legends were referring to the same griffons they faced now. The entire notion of riding a griffon was apparently ridiculous to Genesis and he told her as much. She scoffed and told him riding yellow ostriches into battle was no less absurd. He didn't see that there was anything silly about the noble chocobo and the discussion descended into pointless contradiction.

There were dozens of griffons and they took great pleasure in culling their numbers. Genesis' goading stirred up Hawke's competitive streak and it soon spiralled into a spirited match of 'who can make the biggest mess'. When the griffins inevitably ran out and the plateau was awash with gore and fluffy golden feathers Genesis was declared the winner (though only on a technicality as Hawke insisted.)

Despite having exhausted the supply of enemies, they continued casting spells against the terrain for the sake of practise. It was essentially the magical equivalent of a sword kata and just as necessary for maintaining mastery of their craft. As it wasn't often that either mage found themselves with such a wide open area and no audience, they completely let loose. It was such a relief to Hawke, finally unleashing her magic at its full strength without having to worry about the consequences.

The cliffs and boulders around them suffered terribly.

Genesis scorched the ground with his Apocalypse limit break and Hawke unleashed an electrical storm riddled with entropic magic that tore into a cliff and had it crumbling into dust within seconds.

Genesis watched Hawke's display and grudgingly admitted that in the fine art of magical devastation she was the stronger. He didn't say it in so many words of course, but she was becoming something of an expert in interpreting his poetic musings.

"I've never seen you use that sort of attack before." He said, staring at where mere minutes ago there had been a cliff. The loose pile of coarse dust that was being swept up by the winds was the only evidence of there having ever been a cliff at all.

"Entropy. It's a bit overpowered for everyday use." she said, pausing to catch her breathe. "It's not exactly easy either."

"Thank the goddess for that." he muttered. He looked up and gave her a considering look. "Where did you get your training?"

"My Father taught me the basics. The rest I picked up as I went. Why do you ask?"

He studied her, his expression looking as though he had a baffling puzzle that refused to be solved. He sheathed his sword and crossed his arms.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you have military training." he said abruptly. Hawke gave bark of laughter. His eyes narrowed. "You walk as though you've learnt to march. That's not something you can forget."

She looked at him in surprise. She honestly hadn't expected him to notice. Sure, she had been showing off, but she didn't think he was paying that much attention.

"Nobody's called me out on that in years." she said with a self-deprecating smile. Even those that knew found it hard to believe, she was hardly suited to the structured and regulated life of a soldier.

"Almost a decade ago, in a fit of ill-advised patriotism, I enlisted in the Kings army." She explained, feeling oddly self-conscious about it.

"You joined the army." He repeated, looking incredulous despite having just called her out on it. "You wouldn't last a month." He deadpanned.

"I lasted three months I'll have you know." she said with a sniff.

"I'm impressed. What did you get kicked out for?" he asked with a smirk.

"I didn't." she said, feeling her smile start to turn brittle. "There was no army left to belong to." she looked out at the dust covered plateau. She could almost mistake it for the ashes of a battle long since lost. The air wasn't filled with the stench of burning corpses though and she held onto that. The Battle of Ostagar was a wound she had recovered from years ago but she would never forget.

"What happened?" Genesis asked, watching her seriously. He was a soldier well acquainted with war and he knew the cost very well.

"We were betrayed. By our own General, Loghain MacTir, the Hero of River Dane. I guess he wasn't feeling very heroic that day." she said with a sigh. The word 'hero' had never been quite the same for her afterwards. "He and his men were supposed to flank the darkspawn horde while we charged them head on. Instead he quit the field. Our forces were slaughtered. My brother and I were among the only survivors."

Genesis kept his silence for a moment, almost in acknowledgment of the tragedy.

"There are no dreams, no honour remains." he said quietly.

"Yeah. Nothing was the same after Ostagar." She said with a wistful air.

"What happened to the General?" He asked.

"Oh, politics." She said, waving her hand dismissively. The schemes of grasping politicians had never held her interest and she cared even less after Ostagar. "He ran back to the capital, throwing the entire country into a civil war and leaving the blight unchecked. I didn't stick around for the fallout; I grabbed my family and fled to Kirkwall."

"I see." he said, with a considering look. They were out of enemies and the light would start to die soon. He gestured towards the path back to the village and they both started walking.

"You don't seem very impressed by Gaia's flaunted heroes." Genesis said after a pause, their talk accompanied by the sound of boots crunching over the arid rock. "Is that why?"

"I… suppose so." she said, looking at him from the corner of her eye. She knew the idea of being a hero was something of a sticking point for Genesis. She wondered if he was offended by her lack of awe. "Since becoming the Champion, a lot of people have called me a hero; right up until the city went up in flames. So I guess they learnt their lesson."

He gave her a startled look.

"You saved my life." he said as though it was all that mattered. She supposed that for him it technically was.

"It didn't cost me anything." she said with a shrug. "I'm just a lady with a staff and a handful of tricks."

He scoffed. His expression said exactly what he thought of that turn of phrase.

"I doubt you'd be named the Champion for 'a handful of tricks'." he said dryly.

"You clearly overestimate the people of Kirkwall." Hawke with a smirk. In the City of Chains trickery ruled the day.

"Actually, why did they name you the Champion? I don't think you mentioned." He asked, leading the way when the path narrowed to single file.

She hadn't mentioned at all. There was a lot to be said for having no great achievements to live up to.

"I stopped an invasion." She said. He stopped walking and she bumped into him.

" 'You stopped an invasion.' " He repeated incredulously, in a way that demanded an explanation without having to voice his bafflement.

"Just the once." She said with a wink, overtaking him and continuing down the path.

"And how, pray tell, did you stop this invasion?" he asked, enunciating every word clearly.

"I challenged the Qunari General, the Arishok, to a duel. The winner got to keep the city and also their life." She knew it wasn't so simple of course. Most people tended to forget she was putting her life on the line for the pirate responsible for the invasion in the first place, not the city itself. She hadn't fought for Kirkwall, she'd fought for Isabella. Hawke wasn't all that altruistic and she certainly wasn't patriotic. Not anymore.

"You're joking." Genesis said.

"I wish I was. There was a bit more to it, there was a stolen relic the Arishok was looking for that Isabella had stolen, there were a bunch of zealots trying to start a war, and then the Arishok went and killed the Viscount. Long story short, I killed him, his army went home."

"A formal duel to decide the outcome of a war." he said, shaking his head. She could hear the amusement in his voice. "How… quaint."

"Regrettably, we don't always settle our differences like that. We have just as many brutal, drawn-out wars as everybody else."

"Perhaps they should follow your example then." he said. "Your fighting style hardly seems suited for duelling though."

"The Arishok thought that as well. He should have known better then to expect me to fight fair." she finished with a vicious smile.

\-----------------

Almost as soon as they arrived back at the Canyon Genesis got a phone call. It was Sephiroth calling. Hawke left to give him some privacy, Genesis paced inside the small room he had been staying in, waiting for his commanding officer to tell him why he was calling.

"Angeal is awake." He said. Genesis could hear his smile through the phone. For Sephiroth that was the equivalent of a wild outpouring of emotion.

Amidst his great relief Genesis' pedantic protective side emerged and he launched into a thousand different questions to make sure his friend was truly well. Sephiroth suffered it admirably; he had probably expected it in fact. Genesis was fairly sure he had prepared answers in advance for the impromptu interrogation.

However, as thoroughly welcome as this news was, it also meant the holiday was over. It was technically meant to have ended already but neither he nor Hawke had been eager to go back to dreary Midgar.

The original plan had them leaving early this morning but they had found, quite conveniently, that they were far too busy to even consider it. They were both stalling in their own ways, but life could only be ignored for so long. Genesis would have to relinquish the archives and Hawke could no longer lounge about like a Champion without a city.

He absently starting packing what little he had brought with him.

He had enjoyed having Hawke all to himself for a week, violent arguments aside. It had been… peaceful, in a way that he wasn't entirely familiar with. From quiet moments in the libraries as he explored the old tomes and Hawke tried to get in touch with her scholarly side, to animated conversation and playful banter over dinner. Their conversation ranged from philosophical to the highly personal to the utterly absurd. Even as they discussed the validity of garrotting as a political manoeuvre over cups of iced tea, there was a blissful domesticity to it all.

What were they to each other now? He found the term 'friends' to be wholly inadequate, even if Hawke dragged it along behind her like a security blanket. For him though, it certainly wasn't enough. Genesis was understanding, and respectful, and completely enamoured with the sway of Hawke's hips. He was an incredibly passionate creature, and Hawke had his full attention. Even without the Fade she filled his dreams. He wanted to hold her close, both in the throes of passion and in the quiet little moments of life. And he had no intention of ever letting go.

And as much as Hawke sought to make light of all things serious, he knew she was just as invested in him. The ever increasing number of lingering glances and light touches were impossible to misunderstand. Whether she would finally give in and admit that she wanted a future here, with him, remained to be seen. The choice was hers, but he wasn't above stacking things in his favour.

In his eyes they stood on a lofty precipice, peering curiously into what would await them should they take the next step. Genesis was taking great delight in dancing ever closer to the edge, holding his breathe in anticipation for when they might finally plunge into whatever came next.

It was a shame then, that they would have to return to Midgar and resume something approaching normal lives. Fortunately, thanks to the Fade they would still inevitably spend their nights together, and wasn't that a curious turn of phrase.

It wasn't long before they were both ready to leave the canyon. The light was already starting to wane but it would be pitch black in the caves no matter what time of day it was. There was no unusually dangerous wild life in the Cosmo deserts that favoured hunting at night so neither of them was particularly bothered about venturing out through the dark.

They made their goodbyes; Bugen in particular was sad to see them go and told them they were always welcome. Genesis was unsure what he thought about the nosey old man, but Hawke seemed to enjoy his strange company. Bugen had grown quite fond of Hawke apparently and charged Genesis with being a 'good host to Gaia's visitor'. He also mentioned something along the lines of 'I hope you've got honourable intentions here my boy', which had Hawke blushing most endearingly. Genesis responded with a smile, some choice poetry, and by putting his arm around her.

\--------------------

"No, you see they thought Nugs were responsible for carrying the Blight. They weren't, but they decided to exterminate them just in case. They called it the battle of Squealing Plains, in the late Exalted Age." Hawke said, as she walked on in the dust. The sun had set and they were following a floating mage light towards the cave system, though the moon was shining brightly. It would take them at least another day's march to get back to the helicopter.

"You're making that up." Genesis said, walking a step or two behind her.

"I am not! It's quite famous; Kirkwall spent years trying to kill the things off while everyone else was busy turning them into bacon. It's not usually spoken of in polite society." she said with a fake haughty tone.

"Oh? Then what does that make us?" he asked with a laugh and a raised eyebrow. Hawke could see his eyes reflecting in the dim light and tried not to look for too long. The passing touches and sly looks were a new development that had Hawke on the edge of her seat, even though she was still… uncertain. She knew what she wanted alright; she just hadn't convinced herself to act on it. She had no lack of regrets and she wasn't about to let Genesis (or the fate of both Fenris and Varric) be added to the list.

"It makes us highly improper." she said lightly. "We don't even have a chaperone."

"Scandalous, isn't it?" he winked at her.

"My ancestors would be just shocked, shocked I say!" she exclaimed.

"If they find that shocking, I wonder what they'll think of this."

Just as she was turning back to ask him what he meant she felt his arm warp around her waist and pull her back against his chest. There was a burst of black feathers and a sudden blast of wind then they were in the air.

Hawke gasped and held onto the arm holding her up, staring at the rust coloured cliffs shrinking beneath them. She didn't know if she was awed at the dizzying sight or furious at his high handedness. His chuckle, brushing against her ear and cheek was oddly reassuring, despite being incredibly patronizing. Her grip on his arm was probably crushing but there was no way she would relinquish it. She just hoped his enhanced strength was everything it was cracked up to be because she wouldn't be fit for an open casket funeral if she fell from this height.

Oh, but the view was amazing. Leaning back against the solid presence behind her she looked out at the landscape and sky spread out before her. The last rays of the sun were gone and the stars were out in full force. The endless expanse of moonlit sky welcomed them up into the heavens. Hawke stared in awe, humbled by the majesty of it all.

"Careful" Genesis said softly, "I still need that arm." She hadn't realized how tightly she was holding his hand wrapped around her waist.

"You can have it back when we're on solid ground again."

"Fear of heights, Hawke?" he asked, his amusement clear in his voice.

"Heights? No. Being suspended miles above the ground with no visible support? I guess I'm a little skittish." she said, looking back over her shoulder at him, a grin pulling at her mouth. She couldn't quite see him, just the side of his face and the end of a long black wing.

"Let's see if I can fix that." he said. His tone sounded mischievous and instantly had her attention.

The arm wrapped around her waist suddenly drew back.

Her support gone, she was suddenly falling out the sky. The roar of air rushing past had her too shocked to scream.

Less than a second later, in a flurry of wings and leather she was being held again, this time facing him. Her arms were instantly flung around his shoulders and her legs were thrown around his waist in a death grip. His right arm was firmly wrapped around her back while the other held her leg around his hip. His smug grin told her exactly what he thought of their positions.

"Oh you bastard." she said, burying her head into his shoulder and trying to calm the tremor in her arms. He had the nerve to laugh at her panic.

"Is that better, Hawke?" he asked lazily.

"Do that again and I'll electrocute you so bad your grandchildren will be twitchy." She mumbled into his shoulder. His amusement was poorly hidden.

She gave him a half-hearted scowl before looking out again around them. Cruel joke or not, this was still thoroughly awesome. They were soaring far above the towering cliffs and canyons; it all looked so insignificant, so far below. His wing was barely moving now, just enough to keep them suspended amidst the heavens. Some part of her wanted to stretch out her arms like a bird and just fly away, to discovery even more amazing sights high above the world where nobody could reach you.

"What do you think?" he asked quietly.

"It's… exquisite." she said, turning her head back to him. They were mere inches apart.

He made a stunning picture; sharp features bathed in the star light with a great wing stretched out behind him. This close to him, she was drowning in glowing blue eyes. Forget the landscape, he was magnificent.

Hawke was unaware of just how enticing she looked herself, her hair windswept with her eyes electric and a shapely body pressed so closely against him. She saw his gaze flitting between her eyes and her mouth.

She could be sensible tomorrow.

She kissed him. He kissed back.

The stars wheeled overhead and the two stood in each other's arms suspended in the night sky, the world small and insignificant beneath them.


	24. Reunions

Hawke was sitting comfortably in Genesis arms, entirely relaxed despite being miles above the ground.

Their spontaneous make out session in the middle of the sky had been abruptly interrupted when Genesis got a little too lost in the moment and forgot to keep flapping his wing.

A sudden drop and a lot of swearing later, the moment had been thoroughly ruined.

Hawke had been flustered and secretly a little flattered. She decided, most begrudgingly, that she had to stop distracting him lest they both become a permanent part of the desert floor.

Instead she told him to keep flying as their destination wouldn't be coming to them.

Grumbling something about not being a taxi, Genesis continued flying them to the little town where the helicopter awaited. While infinitely faster than walking it was still quite a distance and they wouldn't be arriving for a few hours yet. Hawke just enjoyed the ride, feeling perfectly safe with a pair of strong arms wrapped around her and an amazing view surrounding them.

She left Genesis to the whole flying business.

That left her still completely entangled in him with no way to move that didn't involve an awful lot of wriggling against him. She was clinging to him with her legs wrapped tightly around his hips. How terribly improper.

A small smile lit her face and she rested her forehead on his shoulder. She closed her eyes and just enjoyed the oddly peaceful moment. Even with the wind whistling past it felt still and silent around them, as if they were in their own little bubble of quiet over a hectic world. It was a novel feeling. She sighed contentedly.

Had she ever been held like this before? She didn't know. It was… nice. Just calmly being held and letting someone else sort out the problem at hand.

She had held her loved ones safely in her arms many a time. Comfort was hardly her trade but for those close to her she had all the comfort in the world to give. She had held a young Carver missing Father, Aveline mourning her husband, Varric grieving his brother, Merrill after the loss of her tribe, Genesis discovering his wing, the list was endless. Between dodging demons and slaying slavers, she held her people up however she could.

The opposite, however, just didn't happen.

Why would it? She was the eldest sibling, the head of the family, the leader of the party.

The Champion of Kirkwall.

Why should she need to be held?

Funny, she'd never really thought about it before.

Sitting in Genesis arms now, completely relaxed and letting him do all the holding for a while, she realised she had absolutely been missing out.

This was something she could get used to. When they were on the ground again she would undoubtedly stand up and hold her own, as she always had. But for now, in the quiet night sky where there was no harsh sun to burn through flights of fancy, she was content to be held.

With nowhere to go and really nothing to think about except the man she was clinging to, Hawke decided she was done fretting over her situation on Gaia. It was time to cut that nonsense out.

Plans and doubts and hesitation weren't really her style anyway. For the moment she was on Gaia, as was Genesis, and she could be quite happy with that. Anything else she would deal with as it cropped up. Rolling with the punches was her greatest strength; right now the punches came in the form of an incredibly attractive man who was obviously interested in her. For Andraste's sake, how was that something to complain about?

She couldn't deny that she was, in fact, rather fond of him as well.

And that was such an absurd understatement she rolled her eyes at her own denial. For all his infuriating, self-important, poetry-obsessed tendencies, Genesis was steadily working his way into a very dear part of her heart and probably very pleased with himself about it. He had made his own feelings for her perfectly clear and they were returned far more then she was ready to admit just yet.

That and she was a sucker for red heads.

It had been quite some time since she'd really felt this way about anyone. There had been Fenris, once, but that ended almost as soon as it had started. One ill-advised night and the months of awkwardness that followed had locked the door on that possibility. Both of them had decided against searching out the key.

This was very different. Genesis was very different. She had absolutely no idea where they were going and that thrilled her.

And even if everything went tragically wrong further down the road, well, didn't it always? She may as well make the most of the situation while it lasted.

Having dismissed her fears, she slowly drifted off.

Above her Genesis flew on, seeing she had fallen asleep and not wanting to disturb her. Draped over him as she was, he could smell the scent of blackberries and ozone that always followed her around. She gave a barely audible sigh in her sleep and nuzzled into the crook of his neck.

He didn't want this quiet moment to end. And not just because Hawke's body was completely pressed up against him, though that certainly didn't detract from the point. This moment of peace was tender and intimate in its simplicity.

How very typical. They always were closest when asleep.

No quiet lasts forever though and soon their destination came into view. Cosmo Canyon had long since disappeared beyond the horizon and the sun was just beginning its long trek across the sky.

They landed.

The two mages separated and stood on their own two feet again, resigned to facing the waking world.

One helicopter ride later the holiday was officially over.

\----------------

Hawke walked to the church. The decaying gothic building stood unchanged from when she'd last been here, over a month ago now.

She could already hear the sounds of Zack and Aerith's laughter filtering out through the slightly ajar doors. She had seen Aerith only once since being kicked out of the house, she hoped the girl was doing well. After over six months of tutoring her, she had grown quite attached to the young Cetra.

"Morning Reno." She said to the Turk lounging outside the church with a cigarette dangling from fingers.

"Heya Hawke!" he said, a crooked grin splitting his face. "Haven't seen you 'round here lately."

"Yeah well, I had stuff to do. How are things?" she asked, nodding at the church door.

"Eh, same old. Boring as hell. How's Rhapsodos?" he asked with a leering grin.

"Spiffing, why do ask?" she said dryly.

"Should have known you're into red heads. Let me know if it doesn't work out, I'll be here for the rebound." he said with a wink.

She snorted. "Not on your life. See you Thursday?"

He agreed and she walked past, pushing the door open.

The sight she was met with had her pausing just inside the door.

Aerith was twirling her staff, glowing strands of green energy sung around her in swirling arcs while Zack watched with a look of awe on his face.

Aerith caught sight of her and faltered, the magical strands dissipating.

"Hawke!" she called out, an overjoyed look overtaking her face. "Welcome back!"

Zack still looked stunned. "Did you know Aerith's a Cetra?" he called out. "Well, she totally is! Isn't that cool?"

Hawke snickered lightly. The love-struck look on Aerith's face at her boyfriend's easy acceptance of her heritage had her fondly rolling her eyes. There would always be people frightened by mages, but Zack was too nice a guy to be anything other then fascinated.

"Yes, Zack, it's very cool." she said, approaching them where they stood next to the flower lined pond of magical potion that was apparently a permanent fixture now. "I'm not interrupting anything am I? I can come back later if you'd like?"

"No, no! Stay, please!" Aerith said, before dropping her staff and giving her a tight hug. "I missed you." she mumbled into Hawke's shoulder.

"I missed you too." she said, returning the embrace. Aerith didn't have a lot of friends and looked up to her like a big sister. Hawke knew how important bonds like that were and had tried to keep in touch with the little Cetran mage but it had been a few weeks since they'd talked.

"I've got to get going now anyway." Zack said, standing a couple of meters away. "I'll see you two around. Take care, Aerith." he gave a jaunty salute and strode off.

Hawke watched him walk off and decided she approved of Aerith's taste in men.

"So," she said, looking back at Aerith who was picking up the fallen staff and placing it on her back with a pride that Hawke smiled at. "What have I missed? And what was that spell you were doing when I came in?"

They sat beside the flower patch and spent the rest of the day catching up.

\-----------

Midgar above the plate was just as unchanged as Midgar below. Genesis returned to find Shinra still going about its shady business, the slums still rotting beneath the plate where nobody important had to acknowledge it, and a wealth of paperwork still forever accumulating on his desk. For the moment, none of that mattered because Angeal was awake.

He quickly changed out of his dust covered clothes and went directly to the infirmary. There he found a clearly healthy Angeal telling a concerned nurse that he absolutely did not want to stay in bed any longer.

"I'm fine- really, I feel in top shape. There's no reason for me to be taking up a bed someone else might need." Angeal said, as always feeling uncomfortable under too much fussing.

"Are you sure, Commander Hewley? We don't want you to over-exert yourself." said the elderly nurse as she pushed her glasses back up her nose.

"I've been under for almost a month; the only thing I'm tired of is sleeping."

"We're tired of you sleeping as well." Genesis said lightly, stepping further into the room where Angeal could see him. "Do you know I've had to do all of your paperwork on top of my own?"

"You never do any paper work, Genesis; you get your secretary to do it all." Angeal said with a smile.

"And I've had to hire a second one to keep up with the workload. Recover already, would you? I'm thoroughly sick of my office having so many people wandering through it." he casually leaned back against the wall facing his friend.

Angeal snorted.

He had spent far too many hours in this room, watching Angeal edge ever closer to death. Seeing him moving about, vibrant and alive; it was almost surreal. The nurse gave him permission to leave and then left them to their conversation.

"It's good to have you back." Genesis said quietly.

"It's good to be back." he sighed "You know that they don't even know why I recovered? I just suddenly stopped dying and everything fixed itself." he looked at Genesis with narrowed eyes that had always seen more than he wanted them to.

"Infinite in mystery is the gift of the goddess." Genesis said with a theatrical gesture. He received an oh-so-familiar roll of the eyes that he had missed terribly.

He would have to remember to pay Aerith back. Not that anything could equal his gratitude for this. But in the meantime, he wouldn't mention her name since she was technically in hiding. Sephiroth already thought it was all Hawke's doing and he wouldn't disillusion him. It was largely her doing anyway, from a certain point of view.

He spoke easily with his recovered friend, just enjoying his company and catching him up on all that he had missed during his month of being comatose.

"You know, while I was... you know, in a coma, I kept thinking I could hear someone." said Angeal, looking uncharacteristically hesitant. "It must have been one of the nurses. I thought they were telling me to… I don't quite know, I guess it doesn't matter."

"Telling you to what?" Genesis asked, wondering what he was talking about. He'd heard that coma patients were sometimes aware of what was happening around them, but why was Angeal so nervous about it?

"I don't know." Angeal paused, looking uncomfortable and doing a poor job of hiding it. "It was strange. I could hear you and Sephiroth when you came to visit, but this, it felt like it was only in my head." he shook his head, trying to shake off his discomfort.

Genesis studied his old friend, and tried not to show how alarmed he was.

"What was only in your head?" Sephiroth asked, stepping into the room.

"Oh, hello Sephiroth," Angeal said "It's nothing much. I was probably just hallucinating. There's nothing important about my fever addled mind." He was beginning to look a bit like cornered prey.

Sephiroth's expression was as inscrutable as always.

"It's probably the medication." the general said after a pause, "I've occasionally had the same, when called into the labs. Some of their drugs have… unusual side effects."

Angeal's relief at the explanation made Genesis all the more concerned.

"You're right, that's all it was." Angeal said, standing up. "Well, I'm getting out of here while before the nurses change their minds. I'll see the two of you later."

Genesis and Sephiroth watched in silence as he left.

"He wasn't on any medication." Genesis said, feeling cold.

Sephiroth didn't say anything.


	25. Suspicions

Genesis had expected everything to return to normal now that Angeal had woken from his coma.

No such luck.

Work was more or less to how it always had been, but Genesis knew something was wrong and it was driving him to some quite desperate measures. The words Angeal had spoken in the infirmary, about hearing a voice in his head, unnerved him more then he cared to say. Since he knew Angeal hadn't been on any medication, Sephiroth's explanation that the science department's chemicals were responsible just made it worse.

It reminded Genesis uncomfortably of something Hawke had said on the way to Cosmo Canyon; back when they were talking about an incident with one of her companions.

'Anders was corrupted and started hearing Corypheus' voice.' she had said.

'At first it was just a quiet presence in the back of his mind, but then it began whispering to him.'

'Eventually, he would have done whatever the voice asked.'

He hadn't given it that much thought at the time, merely adding it to the ever growing pile of 'weird-things-concerning-Hawke'. Now her words floated through his head, making him ask all sorts of questions he'd much rather leave unanswered.

He himself had felt a slowly rising presence in his head before he had been healed. Given the main connecting factor between himself and his two hallucinating friends, and what Hawke had said about the corruption being alive, he was inclined to think Jenova cells were the culprit. His own mind had been restored after Aerith's potion though, shouldn't it be the same for Angeal? Then again, could one potion really alter their genetic structure at the most basic level? Jenova's DNA was merged completely within their own.

What, exactly, was Jenova?

He didn't know.

For such a vital and troublesome substance, there was surprisingly little concrete information. Professor Hollander had once told him (after much coercion) that jenova was a creature of some kind, one that couldn't be identified. What had possessed them to start injecting it into foetuses then? Surely even Shinra's depraved scientists couldn't be that irresponsible and heartless. Well, he knew very well that they could be, but they were at least more professional than that, surely.

There were old reports, rumours Hollander had mumbled when he didn't think Genesis was listening about jenova that added to his confusion. It didn't help that Hojo was the scientist with the real weight in Shinra, he kept his secrets very close to the chest.

Could jenova be a fossilized Cetra? That was what the older reports had suggested, but knowing Aerith, it seemed unlikely. Was it an extinct monster perhaps? Or, the far more dreadful option, a demon of some kind?

He could no longer leave the question unanswered.

That was why he was currently lurking in the archives, searching for documents completely beyond his security clearance. He didn't care. He needed answers.

This could all just be an overreaction and a waste of time, but he wouldn't stop until he knew for certain. The alternative was too terrible to even contemplate.

And if he was caught? Well, this was only the most fiercely guarded secret in all of Shinra. The Fates were cruel indeed.

He leafed through various filing cabinets worth of documentation and scoured the servers for anything pertinent. Every scrap of information was either completely mundane or so meticulously blacked out to the point of being incomprehensible.

Professor Hojo wasn't careless. The head of the science department hadn't gotten where he was today by leaving classified information just lying around. The company archives held only the sanitised version of the science department's depravities. For all Genesis' searching he didn't find a single document mentioning Jenova.

Well then, he'd just have to look deeper.

Back when he had first discovered his degradation and had turned to Professor Hollander for a cure he had acquired numerous high level company passwords and access cards. He had been planning a coup d'état after all. When he had thought better of it, he had kept all his hoarded resources; on the off chance he should ever have need of them.

He swiped a card through the science department's floor level and entered Hollanders personal security code. He rather hoped the scientist suffered for the security breach.

Glancing around at the cold and over-white labs, he smelt the tell-tale stench of antiseptic and processed mako that drenched all of Shinra's labs. Quick and quiet he stepped into one of the few places he truly feared.

As much as he loved the spotlight he knew how to be sneaky when the situation called for it. There wasn't supposed to be anyone down here at this hour, but you could never tell with the scientists, they were just as liable to work through the night as they were to fall asleep at their work stations. There were no cameras on these floors, so if fate was on his side then nobody need ever know he had been here at all.

He stepped further into the bowels of the science department. He had always thought of these halls as hungry caverns just waiting to consume any who ventured too near. After all, some things were unknown because nobody bothered to look; others were because nobody survived to tell of it.

If the blood splatters poorly rinsed off a nearby gurney with welded on metal restraints was anything to go by, this was probably the latter case.

He passed a sleeping intern slouched over a mountain of paperwork and an empty coffee pot, but otherwise the floor seemed completely abandoned.

He soon found the console he had been searching for, Hollander's computer, complete with administrative access.

The Soldier quickly sat and logged on. His knowledge of hacking was limited but as he was using Hollander's personalised equipment and passcodes he was counting on the portly scientist being too embarrassed about such an abysmal failing (should he even pick up on his trail) to report it to anyone. He probably didn't even realise that Genesis knew all of his passwords.

The computer accessed the archives and he searched swiftly. It didn't take him long to realise that while he had greater access he was still bound by Hollander's clearance level. There were things Hojo didn't share with anyone, certainly not his academic rival.

Clearly that included Jenova.

Genesis wanted to curse at the number of files with ACCESS DENIED in their descriptions. At this rate he wasn't going to find anything at all.

There were documents on himself he could open. He felt his ire rise just seeing them. A quick look verified that it was nothing he didn't already know, though the cold impersonal descriptions of 'specimen G' had him clenching his fists.

There was no specific mention of jenova so he moved on. He could be angry later, right now he had a job to do.

Bizarrely enough, there was some mention of a mission planned for Sephiroth. The science department didn't often get to order SOLDIERs around; they didn't usually care to try either, company politics made it a bureaucratic nightmare. Most of the document had been redacted, only the mission goal at the top remained.

Mission Goal: Check malfunctioning reactor. Destroy dragons encroaching on local populace.

The date was for next week. The location was some backwater town that sounded vaguely familiar.

Since when did the science department care about monster hunts and reactor maintenance?

The quiet ticking of the clock on the wall seemed to echo about the room; it seemed to grow louder the longer he sat there, reminding him that he was still within enemy territory.

Finally he stumbled across one of Hojo's files that he could actually open.

Sephiroth's birth certificate.

Curious, he looked at the parents. Despite what Hojo had told the General, the mother was not listed as Jenova, but rather some lady he had never heard of. Human. Normal.

Genesis ruthlessly crushed the part of him that whispered about how unfair it was that at least someone actually bothered to record who Sephiroth's parents were. They hadn't given him that courtesy.

Pointedly not pursuing that line of thought (Sephiroth had grown up in a lab. Genesis had no reason to be envious), he thought he should probably keep this. Sephiroth would probably appreciate knowing, he thought. It would also undoubtedly help the man who looked to be even more isolated from normal people than usual. It also might make up for the brutal reveal of his heritage that Genesis threw at him when he first discovered his wing. That hadn't been his most tactful moment. His sense of drama often drowned out any sense of empathy.

He made a copy and saved it amoungst files on Shinra's health and safety guidelines. It would never get found there.

The sound of footsteps interrupted his musings.

A voice floated through the lab, Hollander by the sounds of it.

He doubted there was anything more to be found through this hack of a scientist's computer. Genesis swiftly logged off and disappeared into the shadows of the lab. Disappointed at having found so little, he left without a trace.

\-------------

Hawke sat listlessly in the Fade, staring at the gorse and blueberry bushes that hadn't been there a week ago.

Genesis sat next to her, leaning back on his hands and studying the additions to the scenery with a distracted air. She could tell something was nagging at him, he hadn't complained even once about his precious Banora white trees having to share real estate with creeping brambles.

"You know, I got attacked by one of your fans today." Hawke said, trying to dislodge him from whatever dark thoughts were eating at him. "At least, I think she was trying to attack me, her technique was chiefly an interesting mix of random swatting and spirited flailing."

Genesis gave a pained groan. The green of the Fade seemed to swirl around him in sympathy.

"Amidst the incomprehensible screeching she told me I was 'stealing her beautiful Genny'" Hawke said with a smirk, enjoying his look of embarrassment far too much. "She's a real keeper."

She was concerned he might hurt himself with such pained eye rolling.

"Which fan club was she from?" he asked after a longsuffering sigh.

Hawke's smile only grew. "You mean… you've more than one?"

"We all have our burdens." he said dryly.

"Uh-huh. I can only assume she was from one of the more devoted ones," she continued, "she had 'Crimson Commander' tattooed on her collar bone. I don't think the tattoo artist was such a fan though, it was a bit wonky."

"I'm sure you had your own collection of fanatics, Champion."

If that was meant to be a jibe then he was going to have to try much harder, she thought. Whatever was bothering him must be really something; he wasn't even in the mood for proper banter.

"Sure, but most of my fans turned out to be either political zealots or assassins in disguise." she said flippantly. "It's so much fun seeing them bother somebody else for a change."

It had also distracted Hawke from what Aerith had told her. She had just come from visiting Aerith down at the church and the young Cetra had told her the planet was agitated. She didn't know what that really meant, but since the 'planet' was the embodiment of the Fade she was pretty sure it being agitated wasn't a good sign. The day the Fade stopped co-operating was, as far as she was concerned, the end of the world.

"Sounds like your sort of crowd." he said absently. She watched him studiously.

"What's wrong Genesis?" she said, settling for the direct approach.

"Nothing. What makes you think anything is wrong?"

"You haven't quoted Loveless once."

"The wind sails over the water's surface, quietly but surely." he said promptly.

"I see." She said with a serious expression. Genesis blinked and looked a little concerned. Hawke might not have understood the thematic intricacies of the damnable poem or what it was that made him so obsessive over it, but she certainly knew by now that that each quote was a perfect depiction of Genesis' mood, even when he didn't realise it. A body of water disturbed by winds was a fitting description for him right now.

"Hawke." he said after a moment of silence.

"Genesis." She said, waiting patiently.

"May I ask you something?" he was still facing the scenery, only looking at her from the corner of his eyes.

"You're always asking me things." she said with narrowed eyes, "I don't think you've ever asked for permission though."

"What happened to Anders?" He asked quietly.

She didn't say anything for a moment. Was it too late to deny permission to ask the question?

"Why do you ask that?" she said cautiously.

"When you mentioned that he was effected by… Corypheus, was it? You said that he didn't lose his mind… that day."

Hawke winced.

"Did I say that?"

"Yes. You did." he was watching her closely now.

"Right. Well. Anders was…" she sighed and tried again. This wasn't going to be pleasant.

"Years ago, Anders merged with a spirit of justice. It didn't seem like that much of an issue. He could get a bit preachy sometimes, but everything else was fine. He lived like a normal person, sort of, for almost a decade." At least, that was how she had seen it at the time. Hind sight could be so cruel.

"I didn't notice the subtle changes." she continued, "Well, I did, but I suppose I preferred not to see them for what they really were. Over the years he turned into a completely different person, and eventually, Justice took over completely. Bit by bit until there was nothing left of Anders, just a hollow shell being used by a rampaging demon."

"What happened to him then?" Genesis asked, dread in his eyes.

She took a deep breathe.

"I killed him, in the end." she said quietly. He looked completely taken aback. "I couldn't let him be used like that. Not anymore. Would that I had acted sooner."

"Just like that?" he cried in outrage, "What if there had been a cure? He might have recovered!"

"He was possessed, Genesis." she said, quietly and resigned. "There is no recovery. I knew that, but I chose to ignore it. I was fool."

"You can't know that, killing him just for being possessed is punishing him for crimes he hadn't committed yet."

"He blew up the chantry. That's a church, it housed an orphanage and who knows how many priests and worshippers. He killed them all to draw attention. The Anders I knew never would have done that because the Anders I knew was gone; reduced to nothing but a prisoner in a body he was no longer in control of. Do you really think leaving him alive would be a mercy?" she said bitterly. She knew what she had done; did he really think she didn't understand?

"Who are you to decide that?" he asked coldly. Beneath the surface though, she heard a tone of desperation.

"I was his friend. I couldn't call myself that if I'd left in Justice's claws." she said it with greater conviction then she felt. She saw now though that this conversation wasn't really about Anders, not for him at least. "Who are we really talking about?"

"What?"

"I'm not blind, Genesis. Anders is nothing to you. Who are you afraid for?" she asked plainly.

The silence that followed was deafening.

"Angeal is starting to hear voices in his sleep." He finally said bleakly. "I think the jenova cells may be responsible. Don't you dare tell me death is the kindest option." he finished, scowling at her something vicious.

Hawke breathed a sigh of relief. It seems that it wasn't as bad as she'd suspected. How novel.

"Hearing voices in the Fade isn't the same as being possessed, every mage hears voices in their sleep. It's whether or not you listen to them that's important."

"What makes you think he can enter the Fade? I don't think he's a mage." Genesis said, looking confused.

"Well, he was… made, the same way as you right? He was part of the same experiment?"

"Yes. We were both injected with mako and jenova cells while still in the womb."

"I wonder if that's why you're a mage." she said, musing over the theory. "Mako is condensed and processed mana, the Fade being its raw form. Having it injected into you could have connected you to the Fade permanently. Maybe."

"That would mean that Sephiroth ought to be here as well." he said sceptically.

"They could both just be on other islands." she said with a shrug. "Or perhaps it affected them differently and I'm completely wrong."

"Perhaps. But what would that mean for jenova?"

Hawke paused for a moment.

"What is Jenova?" she asked, head tilted to the side in confusion.

"She's some kind of monster." Genesis said bitterly. "Nobody really knows for sure what she is. They used to think she's a Cetra, but now they think she's not from Gaia at all."

"She could be a demon." But she had a permanent physical form, that couldn't be right, could it? Her mind ran through the various options, uncertain as to what it might mean. "But if she's responsible for your corruption… that would mean…" she trailed off, suddenly turning a little pale.

"That would mean what?" he asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

"There's no point jumping to conclusions."

"There's no point hiding from the truth either." he was studying her face intently now; searching for whatever answers she was hiding from.

"If she gave you the blight, and it's her voice you're hearing… Aerith says the planet thinks some ancient evil is waking up, getting ready to strike again." Hawke said, her voice steady in a way that her confidence was not.

"And?"

"And that means Jenova is an Archdemon. It means that Gaia is on the verge of a Blight."


	26. Revelations and Complications

The Fade was dead silent in the wake of Hawke's declaration.

There was a Blight coming.

She and Genesis still sat next to each other on a ledge before the small grove of Banora White trees. The cicadas that sang and even the rustling wind had ceased, leaving an echoing silence.

"Dammit all, not again." Hawke exclaimed, breaking the heavy quiet. "Does it never end? Of course it doesn't, that would be far too easy."

"How do we stop it?" Genesis demanded, ignoring her complaints.

"I don't know that we can." She said, rubbing her forehead in frustration.

"You said that there have been numerous blights in Thedas. There must be a way." He said with determination. He might not be particularly fond of the Gaia's rulers, or even its people, but it was his planet and by the goddess he was going to fight for it. What, exactly, were they facing though? His mind raced through various scenarios, what did a Blight actually entail? Would there be armies? Would traditional tactics be effective? Would they need new weaponry? "What are we facing, Hawke?" he asked.

"A war, or something similar. There don't seem to be any darkspawn yet so it could be easier here than it was for Ferelden. All you need do is kill the Archdemon." she said.

"It's that simple?" Genesis asked with a raised brow. She starred at him incredulously.

"It's not simple at all, it has to be killed by a-" Hawke paused and winced. "Hm. This is meant to be a secret. I only know because Anders was a chatty drunk and he made me promise not to tell anyone as soon as he'd sobered up the next day. Though I guess it doesn't really matter here."

"What is this secret?"

She took a breath and slowly let it out.

"Archdemons can only be killed by Grey Wardens."

"Perfect." He said with a frustrated sigh. "Why?"

"If anyone else kills it, the archdemon's soul will just jump to the nearest corrupted creature and continue on its merry way."

"I doubt Jenova even has a soul." He muttered darkly.

"Wardens," she continued, pointedly ignoring him, "are corrupted but they still have their own souls, until they give in to the call at least. If they manage to kill it, the archdemon's soul will try to jump to Warden's body but since it's already inhabited, they'll both be destroyed."

He watched her with a furrowed brow as he processed that.

"You're saying whichever Warden strikes the killing blow dies then."

She nodded. "In the meantime, the archdemon will taint everything around it until the entire world is either corrupted or dead." She ran a gauntleted hand through her hair with a stressed sigh. "No matter what happens, sooner or later jenova will need to be killed, once we've managed to track her down. And for that we need a Warden."

"We don't have any Wardens." He said with narrowed eyes. She looked at him sadly. Her gaze drifted to his once wounded shoulder then back to his eyes again.

"Are you sure?" she asked softly.

"I am certain." he said stiffly, refusing to acknowledge what she was implying. "I'm a Soldier, nothing more. I haven't gone through any joining ritual-"

"You are corrupted, Jenova is a part of you, but you're still in control." she said abruptly, successfully keeping the tragedy from her voice but not her expression. Her eyes fell. "Genesis, for all intents and purposes, you, and every other Soldier injected with jenova cells, are Grey Wardens."

He didn't know what to say. Hawke watched him in silence, sadness mixed with bitterness shining through her eyes. As the revelation sunk in, his expression reflected hers.

"One of us must die to end this."

She didn't say anything. He heard the confirmation in her silence.

Her armoured hand clenched beside her. He looked out at the trees, the familiar grove he had played in as a child. What would the blight do it all? What would it cost to stop it?

What was he prepared to give to stop it?

"My soul, corrupted by vengeance," he quietly recited, "hath endured torment, to find the end of the journey in my own salvation, and your eternal slumber."

He had hoped to find comfort in the familiar stanza but heard only cold words filled with dread. It seemed death ran through his veins after all. Perhaps he was a fool to think he could have escaped it.

"Legend shall speak of sacrifice, at world's end." Hawke said quietly. It sounded so ominous he couldn't even be thrilled that she knew the next line.

His gloved hand found her gauntlet. Their fingers wove together, tailored leather and polished silverite interlocking with a crushing grip. Both silently watched the endlessly swirling green, their unacknowledged hands tethering them together against the oncoming storm. For all the soldier's strength and Hawke's boundless determination, the connection felt delicate and vulnerable.

\---------------

In the early hours of the morning a strange pulse rang through the Fade.

 

Aerith looked up curiously from her flowers in her white corner of the Fade. Somewhere, something evil was laughing. A breath later, in the arcane octaves only as Cetra could hear, the entire planet screamed.

She curled over, shaking uncontrollable. Buckling under the weight of an entire world in agony, she screamed with it.

 

Hawke shot to her feet. The faint echo of something that felt distinctly demonic hovered on the edge of her awareness. She looked around for the source, only to find the green air seemed to have frozen, the normally vividly surreal surroundings were dull and weak under a heavy sense of corroding poison. Rotten magics seeped up from the ground.

Her skin crawled in a way she hadn't felt since Ostagar.

 

Behind her Genesis looked around at violently swirling green and wondered why Hawke wasn't reacting to the whispering voice he heard sighing about them. He had never felt the Fade so vibrant, so alive.

There were no discernable words in the air, the soft voice indescribable, inhuman, and yet he knew it was meant for him. Half his mind craved it. He wanted to know, to see, to understand, as though the voice held the deepest truth of his very existence. And yet a greater part of him recoiled in fear. A deep rooted disgust held him in check against the lilting chords that set the very air alight. It was inescapably magnificent and unutterably terrible.

He simultaneously felt so small, so completely outmatched, and yet part of something so strong and so unconquerable.

 

Several Islands over Angeal stood beneath his own grove of trees and watched translucent strands of song swirling around him. They cried out to him, calling to him in a tongue he didn't speak. The voices harmonized with themselves in a way that sent a cold shiver down his spine. He shook his head and stumbled back, denying the song's call as well as the growing void within him that knew the words and sang back. The song swelled with a consuming need, speaking with intangible words of making him complete, of closing the void with translucent strands of energy that would become his own.

A fear grew in the back of his mind that he wouldn't be strong enough to resist. A different part of him feared he would be strong enough.

 

Across the Fade on another Island far beyond their reach, Sephiroth stood alone. Amidst a graveyard of cracked pillars the General covered his ears and tried to block out a deafening cacophony of howls. The relentless bombardment of voices whirled about him in storm of ever growing intensity that threatened to wash away his own thoughts. The voices glowed with a blinding light that was somehow blacker then the darkest night. The voices sung and shrieked with an inhuman lilt that he couldn't name but recognized on a level so deeply it terrified him.

His closed his eyes to it and held his hands against his ears all the more fervently, refusing to acknowledge what couldn't be real, desperately trying to protect his mind from the incomprehensible assault wearing down his mental walls.

 

All over Gaia people woke up from disturbing dreams they couldn't remember. Agitated and weary they dismissed their night terrors, preferring to dwell on the sun they counted on to rise and burn away such flights of fancy.

In Midgar, three SOLDIERs, a Cetra and an Apostate sat cold and alone in their beds. Their dreams were still vivid and echoing in their minds. A dread had followed them into the waking world and each knew with terrible certainty that whatever had just happened, there was no going back.

\-------------------

Hawke got a call from Elmyra not five minutes after she had gotten up. Aerith was in absolute hysterics and demanding her presence.

She left for the Gainsborough house as soon as Elmyra up. When she got there Aerith ran to her and desperately clung to her. Hawke had only just asked what had happened (though she was fairly certain she knew already) when Aerith broke down and wept. Between the muffled sobs Hawke heard what the planet had said in its great panic.

\---------------

Later that day Genesis was in a Shinra VR room and taking turns sparring with Angeal and Sephiroth.

The synthesized surroundings were of foothills covered in dried out grass. A calm afternoon sun cast a soft glow on the scenery. There was no sound but that of swords clashing. The three SOLDIERs were relaxed and simply enjoying the downtime, and for the first time in history, Genesis didn't feel the need to outdo Sephiroth. He didn't even care to compete.

It was almost peaceful. The fights flowed naturally, each taking turns and suffering losses with good grace. Light barbs were traded and duels were won and lost. It all looked so normal. A shame they were all trying so very hard to make it that way.

The closed off look in Angeal's eyes, Sephiroth's even more regulated than usual expression, the dark shadows under all of their eyes: the subtle signs of men trying very hard to make everything seem mundane. And to all but the most observant they were succeeding. They put the simulation around them to shame.

Unfortunately Genesis knew them well enough to see through the cracks.

Sephiroth was being suspicious. Angeal was being suspicious. If the looks Sephiroth kept sending him were anything to go by, Genesis was probably being suspicious too.

He couldn't help it. A shroud of had fallen over his thoughts. Corruption, Blight and death haunted him. The memory of what he had felt in the Fade nearly broke his composure. The fears and desires that had been awoken in him without any warning had him almost afraid of going to sleep. If that was the corruption Hawke's people stood against on a daily basis then he had to re-evaluate his opinion of Thedas. Only one night facing the awakened evil and his peace of mind had been shredded into ribbons.

It was made worse in that he couldn't see any viable solution.

There was what Hawke had suggested, but he wouldn't consider that a viable option, not yet at least.

He wasn't prepared to lose his own life. He had refused death back when all he had in life was Shinra and its false promises, now with Hawke setting up base camp in his heart he was all the more determined to live on.

He definitely couldn't allow Angeal or Sephiroth to take the plunge either. He had already almost lost Angeal, his oldest friend. Sephiroth, for all his infuriating perfection, was still a close friend. The General was his old rival and he wasn't about to let him just run off and die.

Who did that leave? Nobody outside of perhaps Hojo and Hollander knew how many Jenova cells regular SOLDIERs had in them, if any. Even then, would any of them have the skill to actually kill Jenova in the first place?

Perhaps Aerith could help somehow? Her potion had cured the corruption, thought clearly not quite to the extent he would have liked. What more could she do? The potion had been one nights worth of work, with more time and preparation who knew what she might be able to do? Then again, she was just an apprentice with less than one year's training. They were lucky the potion had done anything at all.

He suspected he wouldn't be relaxing much for the foreseeable future.

He should rather have liked to blame Hawke for this. She knew so much about it all and took it in stride so easily. If she hadn't struck him with such ominous news then maybe this happy gathering would have been at least partly genuine. Never mind that she was no less upset about the situation.

It turned out it was quite easy to blame her for this sort of thing. However, that would just be shooting the messenger, as well as the advisor, and the only one with even the slightest experience against this new enemy. Going by how distraught the strongest warriors on Gaia had become after only one confrontation, they would desperately need anything Hawke had to offer.

In the meantime he wondered how long much longer they could keep up the act that everything was perfectly normal.

Angeal and Sephiroth certainly weren't going to mention what was bothering them. They were both the sort to suffer silently, either out of some misguided notion about honour or just an inability to show weakness. Appalling martyrs, the both of them. A voice in his head that sounded insufferably like Hawke pointed out that he had the exact same problem, having kept everyone around him in the dark about his degradation for almost a year. He stubbornly ignored it.

His phone started ringing.

They all lowered their swords and he stepped back to answer the bleeping device.

"Genesis? This is Hawke." The mage's voice could be heard clearly through the little speaker. He was aware that both Sephiroth and Angeal could hear her thanks to their enhanced senses and were probably inclined to listen in as well.

"What can I do for you?" he asked neutrally, hoping she wouldn't say anything he'd have to explain away later.

"So you know that problem we were talking about last night? The one we needed to track down?" she sounded remarkably relaxed given the subject matter. "I might know where it is."

"Oh?"

"Some place called Nibelheim."

"And how did you come by this information?" he asked in a lowered voice, knowing it wouldn't make any difference.

"The planet told me. Well, it told a friend. Who knew Gaia was such a gossip?" her flippancy made her sound sarcastic, hopefully the two eavesdroppers wouldn't think to actually believe her.

"I see." That was enough information to go on now. He needed to wrap this up and maybe go do some research of his own. "I'll look into it-"

"What's in Nibelheim?" Sephiroth asked, coming to stand in front of him and giving him an unreadable look.

"Nothing you need to be concern-"

"You should tell him." Hawke said through the phone.

"She's right. You should tell us." Angeal said, crossing his arms and trying not to look incredibly interested.

"Mind your own business, Hawke." Genesis said, pointedly glaring at his two fellow soldiers.

"A bit late for that now, don't you think?" she said. He could hear her smiling. "Anyway, we were talking about Nibelheim. Does that mean something to you, General?"

Sephiroth didn't say anything for a moment before responding slowly.

"According to my birth certificate," he gave Genesis a sidelong look, "I was born there, Miss Hawke."

Genesis had sent him the birth certificate he found in hojo's files without comment. Nothing had been said of it since. Sephiroth didn't look bothered at least, so that was something.

"Just Hawke will do. And really? I thought it was a tiny village twenty leagues past the middle of nowhere. "

"Hang on; by the goddess, this isn't a conference call." Genesis said, watching control of the conversation slip through his fingers.

"I don't see why not." She said with a slight sharpness to her voice that said she was scheming something. He had learnt to be wary of it already. "You're going to have to tell them sooner or later, and I don't think later is an option anymore."

"This is more complicated then you seem to think." He said harshly, ignoring the intrigued looks on his comrades faces. They reminded him of sharks that had smelt blood in the water.

"And telling the truth will get rid of at least one complication." She said in a dry voice.

"And create half a dozen more." He muttered.

"So what is it that you're going to tell us the truth about?" Angeal asked, sounding curious as well as slightly amused. It wasn't often that Genesis got cornered into revealing something he wanted kept secret. He suspected Hawke and Angeal would get along alarmingly well in that aspect.

"Don't keep us in suspense." Sephiroth said. Genesis narrowed his eyes at him. Then he made an executive decision.

"Have you been sleeping well lately?" Genesis said abruptly, turning to his friends and watching their curiosity evaporate into defensiveness. Too bad, he thought, they wanted to know, so here it was.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Sephiroth asked in his most toneless voice.

"You might want to sit down for this." Hawke supplied helpfully.


	27. The Truth and other Inconveniences

 

“We can’t have this conversation here.” Genesis said into his phone, warily eyeing Sephiroth and Angeal who both looked like they wouldn’t be letting him off the hook anytime soon. The VR simulation continued running smoothly around them, their sparring match forgotten in the wake of Hawke’s call.

“What exactly are you talking about Genesis? What have you done?” Sephiroth asked, sounding far too suspicious for Genesis’ tastes.

“I haven’t done anything.” He said, before lowering his voice so drastically that only the enhanced could hear him, “The same cannot be said of our delightful employers.”

Sephiroth and Angeal exchanged an alarmed glance. They all knew Shinra was dirty, though just how dirty was a question best left unanswered. It was something they never spoke about.

“I can call back later.” Hawke’s voice floated up through the phone’s speaker. “Or I can just leave you to it, you don’t need my help.”

“On the contrary, you’re going to do most of the explaining, since you know so very much.” Genesis said sharply, giving the phone a suspicious look. “Or did you think you could leave it all to me?”

“That was essentially the plan, yes.”

Angeal snorted his amusement.

“No such luck.” Genesis said, “I’ll text you where you can meet us.”

Hawke sighed dramatically. “Fine, have it your way.”

He snapped the phone shut. Then he spun around to face his two friends, who he couldn’t remember having ever been so forgiving of him getting a call from a woman during a practise match.

“What exactly is going on between the two of you?” Angeal asked. “Who is she?”

“That is a very good question. Shall we?” He gestured to the exit with his sword.

* * *

 

 Genesis and Hawke were standing patiently in the Wastes outside of Midgar.

It was late afternoon and the wind was whistling about, leaving them in a dusty barren plain with the silhouette of the city in the distance. Hawke thought it looked like a great rotting carcass.

This was where they had arranged to meet Sephiroth and Angeal for a thorough discussion about things normally kept secret. While it was a nuisance to get there, it made it impossible for them to be overheard. There was nothing to bug with listening devices, no lurking eavesdroppers, no lip reading Turks with binoculars. Maybe they were being paranoid, but this was Shinra’s most precious secret they were about to expose. As far as Genesis was concerned there was no such thing as being too cautious. Hawke thought it a wise precaution.

The other two found their caution incredibly ominous.

Hawke and Genesis had arranged to meet each other ahead of time for the sake of figuring out what they were actually going to say. The only thing they could agree on was that they wouldn’t mention Aerith. If anyone asked Hawke cured the degradation. Other than that, neither of them had any idea how to actually explain anything. They could just launch into a rant about aliens and demons and wizards, but that was unlikely to be well received.

Now that it actually came down to it, the truth didn’t sound particularly plausible. They didn’t have much in the way of proof either. Not tangible proof. ‘I had a funny dream’ was unlikely to convince an absurdly logical Sephiroth or the ever practical Angeal.

Genesis faced Hawke with his arms crossed and an expression that declared how unimpressed he was.

He did not say the words _you got me into this; you’re going to suffer alongside me till it’s over._

But he didn’t say them pretty loudly.

“What exactly did you intend to tell them?” he asked in frustration.

“Whatever came up really.” She said with a shrug. “My planning skills are a little rusty.”

“As I have observed. Your continued existence is one of the great mysteries of the universe.” He said bitingly.

“And what was your great idea? What would you have told them if I hadn’t said anything?” she sent him a glare that said she knew exactly what he had planned to do but dared him to admit it.

“I wasn’t intending to tell them anything at all.” He said, meeting her challenge face on.

“Oh, so you just figured that a rampaging archdemon wasn’t something they needed to know about?” she said, her hands on her hips. She hated being the reasonable one. “You know it’s probably affecting their minds just as much as yours. They have a right to know.”

Genesis’ expression became guarded. “What makes you think my mind is being affected?” he asked. She scoffed.

“I might be crazy Genesis but I’m not blind.”

“You were in the Fade right next to me; I can’t see why I should be any more troubled then you." He said defensively. She could see why he didn’t like the subject matter but there was no point pretending. Not when she knew better. She could see right through him.

“The Fade doesn’t treat everyone the same.” She said, “I know what I saw, but what did you see?”

His eyes narrowed in thought and suspicion. “What did _you_ see?” he asked.

“You answer my question then I’ll answer yours.” He gave a frustrated sigh then turned away. She waited him out. She could be patient, when she absolutely had to be.

“A strange pulse rang out. In its wake, the very fabric of the Fade appeared brighter and more tangible.” He spoke out to the scenery, watching the metal city in the distance. “I heard a voice. Soft and light, it seemed to beckon to me even though I couldn’t make out any words. For all its softness though, I felt…” he shook his head. “It makes no difference.”

“I disagree.” Hawke said, standing next to him and determined to hear the rest. “The Fade is the one place where what you feel makes all the difference. It’s built on emotional connections and its denizens are fuelled by them. What did the voice make you feel?”

“At first? Awe. It was so beautiful Hawke, I lack the words.”

A rare event indeed, Hawke thought, but she didn’t interrupt to say so.

“There weren’t any recognizable words or melody in the voice’s song but I could have sworn it was calling out me. I heard acceptance and welcome in its lilting tune. It sang of a family reunited and the strength we would have together.” His voice was soft and distant, his eyes unfocused as he remembered. “But then the voice grew stronger and I felt… overwhelmed. I was small and helpless in the wake of whatever sang out to me. I recoiled from it.”

“What happened then?” she prompted.

“The song changed, or perhaps, I heard it more clearly. It was no longer welcoming. It spoke of vengeance and the will to crush all who didn’t accept the song and become one with it. I heard blood and fire in that voice and it terrified me.” He turned away from the city, closing his eyes briefly against the recollection. Hawke had heard of the dreams Grey Wardens suffered when an archdemon awoke. This was the gentle beginning to an endless torment.

“What did you see?” he asked when he returned from the depths of his mind.

“After the pulse, there was silence. The colours dimmed and the swirling of the Fade itself seemed to freeze.” She didn’t see how he could have seen the Fade become more tangible, it had always been entirely tangible to her. When it had frozen for a split second she thought the world had ended. “I felt a surge of demonic magic in the air and seeping up out of the ground.” She continued. “I’ve had similar dreams before, back during Ferelden’s Blight, but it’s never been that strong.” The demonic tang of the blight had never been strong enough to make the entire Fade lose its lustre. No wonder the planet was panicking.

Genesis seemed troubled at how drastically different their perceptions had been. She knew the knowledge that his own mind wasn’t entirely reliable terrified him. Understandable so, but that was just the nature of the Fade. What you saw was a reflection of your own thoughts and how the spirit realm perceived you, not the other way around.

“What would happen if I gave in to the voice?” he asked, watching her out of the corner of his eye.

“It would consume you. Your body would become an empty vessel for the corruption and your own will and consciousness would disappear forever.” The Calling, as the Grey Wardens named it. Nobody could resist forever. She wondered if Carver had succumbed yet. Then she forcibly wrenched her mind away from that line of thought. “So, back to the problem at hand, any ideas? Besides keeping all your friends in the dark, that is.”

They both took an unacknowledged breath, distancing themselves from the ominous subject matter. There would be plenty of time for brooding on that later.

“If you must know, I had intended to take care of it before they needed to be informed.” He said.

“And how were you going to do that, Genesis? Killing it yourself?” her brow was raised in incredulity.

“If necessary.” He bit out. “Though I had hoped it wouldn’t come to that.” He finished, looking away from her.

“You’re not going to run off and do something… irreparable, are you?” She asked, a terrible suspicious forming in the back of her mind. Martyrdom could be noble and necessary and Hawke hated it with a passion.

“You gave me the distinct impression that somebody must.” He said coldly.

“That’s how it is in Thedas.” She said, “It could be different here.”

“Or it could be exactly the same.”

“Are you always this cheery?” she asked. She wouldn’t fret over it. He couldn’t run off and commit murder-suicide with Jenova anyway, not yet at least. Worrying wouldn’t help at the moment so she would postpone it for as long as possible.

“Pardon me for being put out; it’s only the end of the world we’re facing down.” He said, giving her a half-hearted glare.

“The world’s always ending, Genesis.” She said, as though it were all so blasé. It was a rather good act, she thought. “You could stand to worry a little less.”

“You could stand to worry a lot more.”

“You’re doing enough fretting for the both of us. If you don’t remember how to laugh again you might turn into Sephiroth.”

That startled a laugh out of him.

“Only you would say that as though it were a bad thing.” He said, incredulity and unexpected amusement colouring his voice.

“Bad? It’d be terrible! Honestly Genesis, the day you stop quoting esoteric poetry and being so shamelessly ostentatious I’m going to be heartbroken.” She said, melodramatically clutching at her heart.

“Would you just.” He said with an indulgent smile.

“You know,” she said thoughtfully, giving him a soft smile “I think I would.”

He blinked and then looked incredibly pleased. Then he remembered something.

“I am not ‘shamelessly ostentatious’.”

“Yeah you are.”

“I’m nothing of the sort. I’m… sophisticated.” He flicked his hair in a most put-upon manner.

“Is that what we’re calling it?”

“You’re from the Dark Ages; I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

Before Hawke could tell him exactly what she thought of that, Sephiroth and Angeal both appeared, out of thin air apparently. The faint aura of an Exit Materia clung to them.

“So,” Hawke said quietly as Sephiroth and Angeal dusted themselves off. “Full disclosure?”

“Full disclosure.” Genesis said back.

* * *

 

What felt like hours later, but in reality was barely twenty minutes, the four of them stood in absolute silence. The peculiar story Hawke had told was the last thing Angeal and Sephiroth had expected.

The longer it went on the more it occurred to Genesis that this was as unbelievable as it was dire. If he hadn’t been completely convinced beforehand, then the story of demons and zombie armies and dream worlds probably would have convinced him that Hawke was just a drug addled hobo after all. For all that her explanation was coherent and well told; the subject matter was indisputably bizarre.

Sephiroth and Angeal’s incredulous expressions had grown stronger and stronger throughout the telling. Genesis had been cautious, worried, defensive, and eventually just beyond caring.

It occurred to him that he should really be quite grateful to Hawke, and not just for all the usual reasons. Here she was exposing herself and the secrets she guarded so very carefully, to people she didn’t know and had no reason to care about, all because he asked her to. He knew she didn’t like revealing herself as a mage or as unique, but she was really going all out here. Being received with scepticism instead of suspicion was probably something of a novel experience for her.

The afternoon became steadily darker. The wind dropped.

“You’re insane.” Sephiroth said. Genesis didn’t know who he was addressing though he figured the word probably applied to all of them at this point.

“Probably.” Hawke said, claiming the description. “But I’m also telling the truth.”

“You believe all this?” Angeal asked Genesis. He sounded as baffled as he did doubtful.

“Yes. I do.” Really, what else was there to say?

“What proof do you have?” Sephiroth said. “You said you have magic we don’t. Show it to us.”

Hawke stretched out her hand and allowed her mana to build up. Genesis hoped this would convince them as it had himself, but a sceptical Sephiroth as hard to impress, even when he had previously guessed a part of this. He had already seen her technically impossible limit break that day in the VR room, but the accompanying revelation of the Blight was something he looked quite determined to disprove. Genesis could hardly blame him. It all hinged on Hawke being who she said she was. If she was a fraud then the world wasn’t about to be eaten by a zombie demon.

A mage light appeared in Hawke’s hand. It shifted into a flickering fireball with a fluidity that materia couldn’t achieve. The fire changed to a crackling ball of electricity which in turn gave way to a green wisp of entropic magic that swirled like heavy mist in her hand. The accompanying glow of materia was noticeably absent during the entire display. If that alone wasn’t enough to convince them then the entropic magic, which couldn’t be achieved with materia, surely would.

“You really can use magic without materia.” Sephiroth murmured, looking contemplative. “Were you the one who helped Angeal in Rocket Town?” he asked.

“What?” Genesis said, startled at the question. How had Sephiroth known-

“You weren’t the only one handing in a mission report,” Sephiroth said, “though thankfully Angeal was more honest then you, despite his report being a month late.”

Genesis turned a glare on Angeal for selling him out.

“What?” He said defensively, “You didn’t tell me it was meant to be a secret, not to mention it’d be dishonourably to keep silent.”

Hawke, who had rolled her eyes at their squabbling, interrupted before a far too common argument could start up.

“Yes, I was in Rocket Town. I’m surprised you remember though; you were barely conscious.”

“Weren’t there two of you there that night?” Angeal asked, his brow drawn down in thought.

“Well, yeah, Genesis was there too.” She said, looking slightly confused. The other two appeared to believe her and Genesis thanked the goddess she was a good liar. He also made note of it for future reference.

“And you healed Genesis’ shoulder.” Sephiroth said.

“Sure did.”

“And now there’s a war coming.” Sephiroth continued, “Being led by a demon who speaks to us in our dreams.”

“More or less.” Hawke crossed her arms and leaned back casually, looking completely resigned to whatever happened next. She’d done her bit. The rest was up to them. The wind whistled past them, coating them all in a thin layer of grit and dust. The overcast sky left them in a grey haze of poor lighting.

“Let me see if I’ve understood all of this.” Angeal said, rubbing his temple. “You’re an alien. The planet is being attacked by a different alien, one you can’t kill but we can because it’s technically a part of us and that means something somehow, and now we need to go to Nibelheim.”

“Yup. Did I miss anything?” she asked Genesis.

“Nothing springs to mind.” He said.

“Then there you have it. Any questions?”

Silence reigned as Sephiroth and Angeal took in all they’d heard and Hawke and Genesis waited for the verdict. He would be lying if he didn’t say that he desperately hoped they’d believe them. As much as he liked being enigmatic and secretive, Genesis truly wanted their support in this. Fighting Jenova was going to be hard enough without trying to keep them in the dark, or even worse, fighting them every step of the way.

The indistinct sun started to dip below the horizon. The light wouldn’t last much longer.

Sephiroth let out a resigned breathe.

“How long do we have?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” Hawke said, “How long can you hold out against the nightmares?”

“Shinra will try to stop us from doing anything.” Angeal said. “We’ll have to deal with this in secret, at least for the time being.”

“You actually believe us?” Hawke said, surprise colouring her voice.

“I heard Jenova calling to me last night. You couldn’t have known that, unless you were telling the truth.” Sephiroth said. “But I refuse to believe one of us must die. We will look for another solution.”

Genesis and Hawke shared a look.

“Let’s hope we find one.” Hawke said.

With the burden of proof removed from his shoulders Genesis relaxed. The fact that they still didn’t have a solution sat in the back of his mind but he held it at bay for the moment.

“What happens if we can’t kill it?” Angeal asked, ever the pragmatist.

The sun disappeared beneath the horizon. The great hulking darkness of Midgar blocked out the last of its light.

“Then we’re all going to die.” said Hawke.


	28. As Night Falls

With the location of Jenova revealed and Sephiroth and Angeal in on all the pertinent secrets, things moved quickly.

They all agreed that Jenova needed to be dealt with as soon as possible so the three Soldiers and the apostate spent most of the night scheming.

They didn't have much of a plan but they knew they needed to move, if only to see what they were truly up against. Increases in monster attacks had been reported across the globe, especially the Western Continent. Sephiroth reported that half the monstrous specimens in the science department had to be put down after they suddenly went completely berserk the night before. They all tried very hard not to think about the implications of that.

They needed to get to Nibelheim and as Sephiroth explained, they had the perfect excuse. The General was slated to a mission there alongside Zack, later that same week in fact, courtesy of the science department.

It was suspiciously convenient but they weren't about to let the opportunity pass. They decided that Sephiroth would simply bring the mission forward by a few days and extend it to include Genesis and Angeal. They would take a transport large enough to hold one undeclared extra person and leave before any interested parties might contest the details. It was unlikely anyone would look at it too closely, despite how rare it was to have four such high ranking First Classes all going on the same low level mission but nobody would question Sephiroth. Having the most feared man on the planet on their side made it much easier to get away with things.

Angeal insisted Zack be removed from the mission, but he had already been sent the mission briefing. There was some consternation about whether or not they ought to bring him along, if only because getting rid of him would be a massive headache. Angeal's insistence won out however. Zack would no doubt be disappointed but better that then dead. They could be sure of nothing when they arrived at their destination.

Most of the arrangements Sephiroth simply assumed responsibility for. Angeal seemed to expect it; Genesis seemed to find it irritating and made him justify half of his decisions. Hawke meanwhile mostly just watched them argue, occasionally interrupting to give advice. Clearly this sort of strategizing was routine and the three Soldiers worked very well together, even as they studiously avoided the pertinent question of what they would do when they actually faced Jenova. Watching the three of them behave more like squabbling siblings then a commanding officer and two subordinates, she dreaded the answer. Thoughts of sacrifice and martyrdom weighed heavily on them all but nobody gave them voice. Could there be an end that wasn't wrought with grief?

The next question raised was whether even Hawke ought to be going.

"Of course she's coming. She's the only one who actually knows what we're up against." Genesis said. His unimpressed tone said exactly what he thought of the question.

"She's just a civilian." Sephiroth said.

"Uh, no offense." Angeal added.

"None taken. How many Blights have you faced?" she asked plainly.

"This would be the first." Angeal said with crossed arms, as though they didn't all know that already.

"Hm. The Fifth Blight hit my homeland about a decade ago. I've been killing darkspawn pretty much constantly since then." Admittedly she'd gone looking for them half the time but that wasn't the point. "I'm offering you my expertise. But if you'd rather be on your own against something that can turn your very thoughts against you then don't let me stop you."

Nobody made any suggestion about going without Hawke after that.

There were scant few hours of darkness left when they ran out of schemes to argue over. In the end they just didn't have enough information about Jenova to plan anything beyond locating her. It meant they would have to play it by ear which was Hawke's favourite way of doing anything, and everyone else's least favourite.

With an unspoken reluctance they all left to try and get what little sleep they could before having to prepare for their world saving excursion. They planned to leave that night. There was much to be done.

Hawke couldn't claim to be bothered that she wouldn't have any real time to sleep. The Fade was a nasty place right now and she suspected the Soldiers were actively avoiding it. She couldn't blame them; she just hoped they wouldn't come to regret it when they reached Nibelheim.

\------------------

Several hours later, the sun was shining as strongly as it could through the smog. The rest of the world was going about its business with no thoughts spared for the odd dreams that haunted the night.

Down in the slums, the derelict church was filled with awkward tension as Aerith gave Hawke her most spirited glare. Hawke failed to be impressed.

"It doesn't work like that Aerith." She said with exasperation. She had come here for a quick goodbye, not to get dragged into a futile argument. Aerith remained undeterred.

"The planet needs me. The Calamity will destroy everything." The girl said, her hands on her hips and her most determined expression on her face. "I can help."

"No. You can't." Hawke said firmly. She wouldn't be moved. It wasn't often that she truly put her foot down but this was out of the question.

"I've been trained by the best! I don't see why-"

"I taught you how to fend off thugs and low level monsters. This is something else entirely."

"Cetra are supposed to protect the planet and the planet wants my help!" she said, her pleas turning desperate.

"The planet, pardon my sacrilege," Hawke said, sounding far too sarcastic to help her own cause "doesn't know what it's up against. I do. Allow me to handle it."

"It's fought off the Calamity before." Aerith said, pride and indignation replacing her desperation. "It called on the Cetra and she was sealed away for thousands of years."

"And how many Cetra died in the process? Why don't you ask the planet? It's okay, I'll wait."

Aerith frowned at her and looked at the ground. Hawke knew it was a cheap shot, but this was no time for delicacy. The whispers of the lifestream had told Aerith how Jenova once slaughtered so many of the Ancient race it was miraculous that there was even one left. Did she really expect Hawke to blindly lead her to straight back to the dreaded Calamity to finish the job?

"You told me about what the ancient Cetra could do," Aerith said resentfully, "why won't you let me do the same?"

"Even they had to learn how to walk before they could run, presumably." Hawke said dryly. "You're a powerful healer. But for now, that's all you are. If this goes as badly as I expect it to, then you'll be completely vulnerable."

"I can cast shields." She said, jutting her chin out in pride.

Hawke closed her eyes for a moment to try and regain some patience. The girl's enthusiasm made her feel nearly ill. She was reminded too starkly of herself and Carver over a decade ago, boldly volunteering to fight the Blight as though all opponents would simply bow down before them. The battle at Ostagar had destroyed any such arrogance.

"Aerith. You're not ready. Trust me on this. I've fought against the Blight before and I barely survived." The crunch of Bethany's body being slammed onto the ground by an ogre and the wheezing of Carver's infected breath were forever carved into her mind. She would not let Aerith join them. "Please, Aerith. Sit this one out." Her voice ran raw with memories.

The Cetra tried to maintain her stubborn countenance but she soon wilted in the face of Hawke's sincerity.

"Fine." Her shoulders drooped with disappointment. "I'll stay here."

Hawke breathed a sigh of relief.

Aerith pouted in frustration.

\--------------------

There were still three hours till Hawke was supposed to leave Midgar and she'd run out of legitimate preparations to occupy herself with.

"Is that… orange juice? You came down to the pub to drink orange juice?" Reno stared at her like she had just confessed to being part turtle. "What the hell's wrong with you Hawke?"

"I'm supporting the temperance movement." She said stoically. It was sort of true, in the sense that she didn't think spending half the night on a crowded helicopter while sloshed was a good idea. She would just have to gamble sober. There were probably more productive things she could be doing right now but she figured that what with an archdemon in her immediate future neglecting morale would be irresponsible.

"Uh-huh, the day you go cold turkey is the day I'll be an upstanding citizen and respected part of the community." he said, shooting a lazy smirk at one of the patrons scowling at him.

"Well, we respect your ability to drink even a casteless dwarf under the table. That has to count for something." She said before taking a swig of her not beer.

"You say the weirdest shit sometimes, Hawke." He shook his head and slouched down in his seat. "The hell's a casteless dwarf?"

She ignored him in favour of picking the label off of her drink. After a minute or two, Reno sat up straight only to then slouch forward over the table. He watched her quietly while draped awkwardly over the slightly sticky wooden surface.

"Speaking of weird shit that you're somehow wrapped up in," he said, seemingly at random.

"Should I start running?" she asked with a laugh.

"Not yet, I haven't even stolen your wallet yet." He said reproachfully.

"Oh, well then, be my guest." She returned her attention to her drink. He sounded like maybe he was about to talk about something serious but she knew he would never get around to what he actually wanted to say if she treated the conversation seriously.

He yawned and turned his face so that it was resting squarely on the table.

"You've got some pretty important friends, you know that?" he said into the chipped varnish, though his gaze was still focused on her from the corner of his eye.

"I guess that depends on your definition of 'important'." She said with a shrug.

"Everybody thinks Soldiers are important. Why do you think they're always being watched?" he said quietly. Hawke's drink paused half way to her mouth. He noticed her slight hesitation and continued, "I don't spend all my time lurking outside churches, ya know. There's always somebody listening." He looked back down to the table again.

Hawke took a long sip of her drink, her eyes straight ahead and expression blank.

"I hear about all sorts of stuff and I couldn't care less about most of it, but the Lab coats might not be so easy going." he continued, eyes shifting casually around them to all the people milling around. Nobody was close enough to overhear anything. "I don't always get to ignore orders." He finished quietly, his voice unusually sombre.

"I'm not breaking any laws am I?" She asked dryly. He snorted.

"If anyone sees you sticking your nose where it don't belong, it won't matter how clean you are." He finally sat up, taking a swig of his beer.

"Well then, I'll be on my best behaviour." She said with mock seriousness that covered the actual seriousness simmering beneath the surface.

"Ugh, don't do that." He said, wiping his mouth on his stained sleeve. "Maybe just stick to pick pocketing hobos or something?"

She snorted.

"That's great advice Reno, thanks."

\-------------------

Soon enough it was time to leave Midgar. Hawke prayed they would all return.

Nibelheim awaited.

They couldn't make the trip all in one go so they would stop over at Costa del Sol where everyone would try to get a few hours of sleep at some Shinra provided accommodations. That was the idea at least, Hawke very much doubted they'd actually get much sleep but it was a nice thought anyway.

Just as they were leaving, Zack had stormed out and demanded answers. Anyone else probably would have just left without question when being told he'd been reassigned but Zack was far too familiar with them all to be intimidated into not questioning what on earth was going on. Hawke, who was trying to draw as little attention to herself as possible (Reno's warning hadn't gone completely over her head), said nothing and watched everyone else handle the complications.

"Why are you all cutting in on my mission?" Zack had demanded, ignoring Genesis' glare. "And why is Hawke here? She's a civilian; she doesn't even work for Shinra!"

"Classified." Sephiroth said tersely.

"Oh come on!" the boy whined.

"That's need to know, Zack." Angeal said, apparently feeling a little more sympathy for his student then his comrades. "And if anyone asks she isn't here at all."

Zack was not impressed but still outranked so he slunk back inside along with the troopers who had also been assigned to the original mission.

One uneventful flight later they were at Costa del Sol.

The seaside destination was apparently very beautiful during the day but they wouldn't be there long enough to see for themselves. It was nearly midnight when they arrived and they were set to leave again before the sun rose. In the meantime, the Fade and Jenova's lilting song awaited.

Hawke took a deep breath and went to sleep.

Thirty minutes later she sighed in frustration and got back up again.

It might have been the most comfortable bed she'd touched in months but her sleep had been tortuous. She'd barely entered the Fade before the reek of corrupted magic assaulted her so strongly it jolted her awake again. Giving up on getting any sleep in the immediate future she got up and put her boots on. The armour she left off, making do with her sleeveless tunic and leathers.

Taking care not to wake anyone she slunk downstairs. The house was fully furnished and needlessly fancy. Fortunately there was just enough light streaming in from the nearby streetlight for her to not trip over all the furniture.

When she got to the living room she almost missed the red headed soldier sitting on one of the couches.

Genesis had taken off his duster, leaving him in all black and blending into the shadows. Only the flicker of light refracting through the crystal decanter by his hand caught her attention. Glowing blue eyes watched her cross the room.

"You should be in the Fade." He said quietly. He put down a now empty port glass.

"So should you, Genesis."

Silence reigned for a moment, neither prepared to discuss why they couldn't, or wouldn't sleep. They might frequently speak about all sorts of painful subjects while in the Fade but facing reality when awake was apparently a much taller order. Saying something here, voicing it out in the physical world made it too unescapably real, as though it might be only hypothetical till then.

"I doubt anyone in this house will be dreaming peacefully tonight." Genesis finally said with a resigned sigh.

"It wasn't for lack of trying on my part." Hawke said, scratching at her bed-hair absently. "I'm going for a walk. Shall I leave you to bond with your glass?"

He shook his head. "I'll join you."

Outside was colder than any seaside resort had a right to be. Both were without the usual layers they wore, gloves and coats and pauldrons abandoned till morning. What was usually a bustling tourist destination with an ever populated beach was now empty and eerie under the cold moonlight. Clouds blocked out most of the stars, leaving the pale moon to fend for itself in the sky. They walked along the beach, the white sand stretching on forever in front of them with the black mass of the ocean crashing against it. The tide was coming in. A whistling breeze blew in from across the water, leaving the surf choppy and setting Hawke shivering. Their boots crunched over sand and broken seashells.

Fed up with the chill, Hawke stood closer to him and he put his arm around her.

After they had gone a fair distance she sighed and broke the silence.

"Do you think Shinra will mind that we're trying to destroy their pet demon?" she asked.

He flicked his hair out of his face and looked down at her.

"Certainly, but I doubt they'll be bold enough to do anything about it." His smile was dangerous at the idea of outplaying Shinra.

"Really? I hadn't gotten the impression that they lacked daring." She said with a raised brow.

"Even as outrageous as they are Shinra wouldn't dare move against me, Angeal, and Sephiroth. Especially not Sephiroth. Even discounting how dangerous we are individually, the SOLDIER division is more loyal to us then it is our employers and they know it." His tone turned thoughtful, "Truthfully Hawke, I'm more concerned about you."

"Why? I haven't actually done anything." she said, her eyes narrowing at the horizon. Somewhere beyond the restless oceans lay Midgar.

"Should they discover what you're capable of I doubt they'd let you roam free."

"Then they can take a number and get in line." She said dryly.

He stopped walking and faced her.

"Don't underestimate them Hawke. You don't know the depravities that Shinra is capable of and I would rather you not find out. Not first-hand anyway." He stretched out his hand and caressed her cheek. "I'd go to quite a few extremes to see that that doesn't happen."

She took his hand and intertwined her fingers with his.

"That goes both ways Genesis." She said, her eyes locked with his. "You're chasing down an archdemon; I'm not letting you do that alone. Shinra can do what it likes; I am going to help you however I can."

He smiled softly at her.

"You are a fool, Hawke."

"I know, and you're welcome."

The sound of the surf crashing against the beach rumbled on in the background. They stood quietly facing each other, simply holding hands, neither glove nor gauntlet between them. She just wanted to stay close to him, the spectre of whatever tomorrow might bring, might take away, casting an impenetrable shadow. Her hand tightened around his without her telling it to. Genesis' eyes remained on her throughout; his gaze was focused as though memorizing her features. He closed his eyes for a brief moment and then stepped closer.

"There's something I need to tell you." He said, gently running his finger down the side of her face. "I fear I may not get another chance."

She held her breath. She could guess what he was going to say and her heart clenched with both soaring hope and crushing dread that she was right.

"Hawke, I-" she put her finger over his lips. He stilled instantly, wariness in his eyes.

"Tell me that on the way home." She said, her grip on his hand strong. She was not letting him go. Not today, not tomorrow.

"Home?" he asked, eyes narrowing slightly and the shadow of an old argument lurking in his voice.

She gave him a faint smile, her eyes holding the resolve of a decision finally made.

"Midgar." She said.

The wariness disappearing and a tender smile lit up his face. Just for that moment she could believe there wasn't any Blight, just her and the man looking at her as though she was the most important thing in the whole universe. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly.

"On the way home then." He said.

"Promise me?" She asked, looking into his face. It wasn't a promise either of them could truthfully make but she needed to hear it. She knew what she wanted. There needed to be something more than just tomorrow.

"You have my word, love."

She kissed him. He cupped her face and kissed her back. Their lips moved against each other's, yearning and infinitely tender. The waves crashed on the shore behind them and the biting wind whistled past. Jenova's whispering voice and the shadow of martyrdom fell away for just a moment as they held each other tightly with their eyes closed and their lips locked.


	29. Orders

While Hawke and the three Soldiers travelled ever closer to Nibelheim, there were those who noticed their sudden departure.

Within the impenetrable depths of Shinra's Science Department a hunched scientist stood squinting at a large screen on the wall in the too bright laboratory. Professor Hojo was his name, his hair was greasy and his glasses smudged but sunken beady eyes betrayed cunning intelligence and a mind filled with wheels forever turning. This was his territory, the cold sterile labs that forever smelt like mako and echoed with the memory of dripping blood. Few could feel comfortable here, but within these halls he had thrived.

Behind the scientist stood two Turks. Tseng was stern and immaculate in his pressed suit, Reno slouched and unkempt with his suit crinkled and hair tousled. They both looked out of place here in their dark blue uniforms, regardless of how differently they wore them. Nobody could mistake the Turks for denizens of the science department; they were men of action and the halls of research and meticulous study seemed to glower at them with disdain. Reno hated it, these levels always made his skin itch. The fact that he could tear every last professor into twitching piles of broken science made him feel a little better, but not much. Next to him, his boss looked as untouched by it as always was. That was why he was the boss.

Before them all was a large screen. They studied a single frozen image, Hojo glaring at it with a well-practised sneer, the Turks analysing with professionally indecipherable expressions.

The display showed the three highest ranking Soldiers and a civilian woman boarding a Shinra helicopter. The footage had been pulled from a security camera; the original image in grainy black and white and now zoomed in enough to blur. Despite the poor quality Sephiroth's long white mane made him impossible to misidentify and Genesis was uniquely vivacious even when de-saturated. As the only one wearing a standard uniform, Angeal was still easily identified by the massive sword he carried on his back.

"This was the mission originally scheduled for next week with half the personnel?" asked Tseng.

"Hn. Until Sephrioth suddenly changed it. No explanation, no excuse. Very unlike him, even if the other two aren't professional enough to know their own orders." said Hojo with a nasally voice and the air of someone far too secure in their own genius.

"Maybe he just had other shit to do." Reno said, looking completely bored though his alert gaze gave away his interest.

Hojo mumbled to himself, his voice altering volume at random. "The timing is off, my calculations…It could be too soon, too much interference, the call might not be loud enough yet. What if he can't hear her?"

The Turks shared a look at his incomprehensibly muttering.

"What was purpose of this mission, professor?" Tseng asked in a neutral tone that betrayed nothing.

The scientist abruptly silenced, his eyes narrowing and his sneer growing all the more pronounced. The question went unanswered.

"What kind of perfect Soldier runs off without orders?" he asked, deftly changing the subject while sounding bitterly affronted.

"Well, he is the General." Reno said. "Pretty sure he gives the orders."

Hojo made a noise of disgust.

"Only because I let him. I give the real orders." He said, his chin jutting out with pride.

Silence followed his declaration. Reno's eyes narrowed but he couldn't deny the claim, no matter how much he wanted to. Even Turks, who supposedly answered only to the President himself, had to bend to Hojo's whims. The Head of the science department had the President's ear and he took full advantage of it.

The Turks didn't like it. It wasn't healthy to be cause of something the Turks didn't like.

Hojo didn't care enough to notice.

"What of the woman? She's not Shinra." Hojo said, his brow pulling down in deep reprimand. "Whoever she is, she's  _interfering_." The acid in his voice would have dissolved steel.

The Turks were both silent. Of course Reno knew exactly who she was, as did Tseng. Hawke was hard to miss once you knew what to look for, but for now at least they were playing their cards close to the chest. So they had to take orders from Hojo, that didn't mean they had to make it easy for him. After all, if they truly wanted to be accommodating they would have brought Aerith and a few select others to the scientist years ago. Tseng didn't want that though, and the Turks were more loyal to their own then anyone else. Orders from the grasping scientist could be delayed for years at a time, so long as they were vague enough to be perpetually misinterpreted.

Reno hoped that would be the case now. In all the footage they had the view of Hawke was always partially obscured by something, despite her seeming to go about her business with neither focus nor intent. And when there were no conveniently placed crates or equipment she was always found facing the other way. If she hadn't been standing next to the most photographed people on the planet Reno would have been impressed by how subtle she was. The indistinct image of her profile, with her back to the camera as she turned to speak to Genesis, was the best picture they could find.

The silence dragged on until the scientist abruptly broke it.

"I want her gone."

Shit. That was pretty much an order, and not a loosely phrased one that could be misunderstood either. Reno looked to Tseng.

"Professor-" the elder Turk began.

"I don't care who she is, I just want her dead." Hojo snapped. Reno supressed a wince as an endless line of curses ran through his head.

"I'm not going to have any variables interrupting the reunion." The scientist continued, sending a glare over his shoulder at them, his contempt almost a physical force choking up the room. "All these pathetic lowlifes contaminating my work, it's sickening. As though Hollander's freaks weren't bad enough."

"Wait, but," Reno stuttered, a rare break in his carefully maintained mask of apathy, "Maybe she could be useful?" Tseng gave him a stern look and his mouth snapped shut.

Hojo's head tilted to the side.

"Useful." He mumbled, giving the grainy image an indecipherable look. "Yes, I suppose she could have some utility." He nodded decisively. "Alright, bring in the cadaver afterwards. I'm about to get so much more data, who knows what I might need. It does pay to be prepared."

Reno's jaw clenched. He slowly worked it lose again at Tseng's vaguely disapproving look.

"You're the boss." He said quietly.

* * *

 

The journey to Nibelheim was long and uncomfortable. Hawke and the three Soldiers were driving the last leg in a military truck made for efficiency and endurance. The gravel road cutting through the tundra of the Nibel area seemed to go on forever.

Most of the drive passed in silence. They were all exhausted, both from lack of sleep and a growing apprehension. As their destination approached the atmosphere took on a foreboding edge. The Soldiers could all feel a creeping force on the edges of their awareness slowing rising up around them in smothering tendrils of nameless magic. Hawke probably would have felt it too if she hadn't been completely passed out in her seat. The others tried very hard not to resent her for being able to sleep at all. Genesis looked like he wanted to wake her up again just to be spiteful but his restraint won out in the end.

Sitting across from the apostate was Angeal. The black haired Soldier gave a sigh and ran his hand through his hair in agitation. He felt as though the same conflicting thoughts that had been troubling him for the last two days were playing on loop. The revelations Genesis and Hawke had given were unnerving enough without the whispering voice that was robbing him of his sleep and leaving his thoughts muddled.

The others had fretted over how to kill Jenova without anyone dying. Sephiroth declared it a priority, albeit one they didn't know how to address. Angeal couldn't bring himself to say it aloud, but he was starting to doubt if that was really the right course.

Jenova was a monster. Just by existing she endangered innocent people everywhere. She had to die.

But he carried Jenova's cells. He heard her call.

Wasn't he just a monster too?

Angeal felt ashamed for the dark turn his mind had taken. It wasn't noble or honourable and it carried the stench of cowardice, but he couldn't help but wonder what right he had to demand life when someone else would be paying the price. He was a Soldier, well versed in the art of killing monsters. What better end could he wish for?

He didn't want to die, feared it even. But then, how much of that doubt was the voice of Jenova just trying to buy another day? It was in the nature of a monster to demand its own survival, no matter who suffered for it. The only right course was to sacrificing himself for the others. His honour demanded it.

He scoffed at that. Honour through suicide? That sounded more like cowardice. If he lived… he'd be living with the reality of what he truly was. A monster's spawn in human shape. Who knows, he might even have an undiscovered wing too.

The truck took a sharp corner, jostling everyone. Angeal's sword, previously propped up next to him slid to the floor with a clatter. His Father had given him that blade; the symbol of his family's pride and honour. The solid slab of metal seemed to glint at him accusingly.

He'd had hopes for his future, before all of this. He was going to find a nice girl, settle down and start a family. He'd had vague plans that included a large house with a white picket fence and a big furry dog. Genesis called it cliché but he preferred to think of it as classic. It didn't really matter now.

The road was getting worse; being so far from any real population centres the roads were little more than uneven gravel that threw dust in the air and made a grating noise to drive over. Hawke stirred slightly before curling up against Genesis. The red head just rolled his eyes and put his arm around her, relaxing back against the sleeping mage.

Angeal felt a smile tug at his lips. He couldn't remember ever seeing Genesis as openly comfortable around someone as he was now. To be honest, he hadn't expected him to ever actually find anyone decent, not for another decade or so anyway. As bizarre as Hawke was, he thought she was good for him. She was going out of her way to save a planet that wasn't even hers, that alone put her miles above the vapid actresses and haughty intellectuals Genesis usually went after. Given the way red head had talked so openly around her about his own genetic flaws he would say that she had gotten far closer to Genesis' well-guarded heart than anybody else.

It would be heart breaking for the two of them to be separated now.

* * *

 

After many gruelling hours of travel, they arrived at Nibelheim.

It was far too soon in Sephiroth's opinion.

They had all been getting more and more uncomfortable the closer they got to the town, the soldiers in particular. Now they had finally arrived, everyone was silent. They had all felt it, the gnawing presence from their dreams slowly getting stronger. Hawke warned that if Jenova wasn't dealt with they'd begin to hear the call even when awake. Sooner or later, they'd hear nothing else.

Sephiroth didn't tell them that he was already hearing the call while awake.

He had been for some time now, Hawke just happened to put a name to it. He doubted he would have believed such outlandish claims so readily if it had been otherwise. When she called it Jenova, he realised that the voice in his head was a good fit for the name he had always thought his mother. It felt right, like a piece of a puzzle now firmly placed within the picture. He wondered how he didn't see it before.

Of course, Jenova wasn't actually his mother. Hojo had lied. She was just some demon, a monster. Not his mother.

Not his mother.

They disembarked and stood at the entrance of the town. It was small and desolate in a way that seemed fitting. And almost familiar.

There were glimpses of people looking at them from their windows, peering curiously at the newcomers before hiding behind their curtains again. He stood at his full height. Let them look, a trio of monster come to slay their own kin. The haunting voice slithered around his mind.

_My son._

He closed his eyes tightly for a moment.

Not his Mother.

Now was not the time. They had a job to do. He squared his shoulders and strode through the wrought iron gates.

The village itself was hedged between twin jagged cliffs. There was barely any vegetation and what little did grow was splotchy and shrivelled. A few determined pines littered the edges of the town, reaching upwards in a desperate bid for light. It was only early afternoon but already the sun had disappeared behind the towering heights, leaving the town in a murky gloom.

A biting wind funnelled down the ravine, strong enough to set all their coats whipping about but not enough to blow away the caustic smell the whole town seemed to be steeped in. Mako, he would know the smell anywhere and despised it with every fibre of his being.

It made sense for the town to stink of it; you could smell it around most towns with a reactor. The Nibel area was particularly rich with it and this reactor was one of the oldest.

He could see the reactor now, a rusting structure perched high up on the mountain side. A shiver ran down his spine and he kept walking.

One of the villagers finally came out of their houses and approached them.

He was a thickset man of average height and a receding hair line. He held himself in a manner that spoke of grating self-importance and dissatisfaction with everyone else. Mayor Lockhart he called himself and he was very indignant that Shinra hadn't asked his opinion before sending emissaries, and what business did they have here anyway? Sephiroth looked down at the prattling local almost a foot shorter than himself and wondered what he possibly justify such arrogance.

Genesis made a scathing comment and Lockhart took on an expression of grave indignation. Hawke swiftly took over the conversation and somehow got actual information from the man. There was an old Shinra owned Mansion up ahead, that they probably ought to investigate. After that they would check the Reactor. With an obviously insincere smile Hawke thanked the Mayor and he stormed away again after giving them each an unfriendly look.

Probably a good thing, Sephiroth was in no mood to contend with vain fools-

_Presumptuous humans who think they are your equals. They are not worthy of you my son._

He took a deep breath.

Not his mother.

The others all started on the path towards the Mansion.

He trailed behind them. This search had to be quick. He didn't know how they would resolve this issue, but he knew, deep within him, that they needed to find her. He had to find Jenova.

_Come to me my son…_

Not his Mother.

 


	30. From Whence It Came

Hawke lead the way beyond the village and up to the Shinra Mansion. Behind her Genesis, Angeal, and Sephiroth followed in silence.

The mansion stood in sharp contrast to the rest of Nibelheim. It was a large and stately building made of grey brick and kept from the village by a wrought iron gate. If anything, Hawke thought it looked like a misplaced piece of Kirkwall. It would have been quite at home amoungst the pretentious estates of Hightown.

While it must have once stood tall and noble, the mansion was now just the ghost of a great estate. Long dead vines clung to the walls, grime and dirt stained the windows and the garden was a battered little patch of wilderness desperately trying to beat the odds. Altogether it made for a wretched image, that of something once magnificent, now rotting and forgotten.

Who knew what they would find here? Maybe Secrets, as rotten and forgotten as the mansion that housed them? Perhaps even jenova herself.

The gate was locked but the front door wasn't. They broke the lock and walked straight in. The creaking doors swung shut behind them.

Into an open hall they stepped with two curving stairways leading up before them. Dust particles danced in the slanting light trickling in from tall windows. The light had been weak outside, but it looked bright and glaring against the gloomy interior.

A choking layer of dust coated everything. The curtains were moth eaten and the walls plagued by spots of mould. The faint smell of decaying wood hung upon the air. The whole place felt cold and empty.

"I don't think anyone's been here in decades." Angeal said, disturbing the thick silence.

Hawke shook her head, "This place isn't empty."

Genesis sent her a sceptical look.

"Of course it is, look at this." He ran a hand across a banister and then glared at the grime on his gloved finger with great contempt.

"It's a mess, sure, but there's something here. Can't you sense it?" She tilted her head to the side. The Fade felt… stretched. It was oddly misaligned here as though someone had found a loose thread in the fabric of the Veil and pulled on it, disturbing the natural pattern. Somewhere in this place they could find the pulled thread, and maybe even whatever had pulled on it.

"How can you tell?" Sephiroth asked, the first time he had spoken in hours.

"The Fade's acting up. That doesn't just happen on its own, something must be here keeping it that way."

"Is it… Jenova?" Angeal asked.

"You tell me." At the confused looks they sent her, she explained, "I can't sense the corruption but you three should be able to. Can you feel anything here?"

Neither Genesis nor Angeal could truly tell if they were getting close or not.

Sephiroth said nothing.

"You're the only lead we've got then." Angeal said. "What should we be looking for? This place is huge."

"A lower level I think." She said, trying to trace the rough edge in the Fade. It was hard to tell with these things, but the disturbance did seem to be beneath them. Whatever it was, it disturbed her. An edge of  _wrongness_  tugged on her mind.

"Look for a basement then." Angeal said.

The only problem was that there was no basement. They split up and searched the entire ground floor and came up empty. They only thing they had discovered was that this place wasn't simply abandoned, it had been professionally cleared out. Probably by Turks, according to Sephiroth. Despite being fully furnished, not a scrap of life remained; there was no personal touch or evidence of anyone having ever lived here. However, according to what the village mayor had said, the mansion had been very much lived in a little less than three decades prior.

"You're certain there's something here?" Genesis asked, looking at Hawke with a frown. Having run out of ground floor they were scouring the upper storeys for anything at all. The dreary house was not comfortable. Everyone was a little on edge and the lack of any visible progress wasn't helping.

"Absolutely. It's tugging on a corner of my mind." Not enough to disrupt her own magic but it was easily noticeably. She wondered what could be causing it. With no natural mages here what could have disturbed the Fade?

"There's definitely something here." She said, trying to sharpen her senses and having little luck. "I just hope it's not undead."

"Why do you say that?" he asked, looking like he very much wanted her to be joking.

"Because it's always undead." She muttered. She opened the door to what was once probably a guest room, one of the last rooms on this floor.

"There's nothing here." Genesis said after brief look in from the door.

"Please, you've barely even looked. It's like you've no idea how to find hidden passages in mysterious old mansions." Now that she thought about it, the angle of this room was… odd. How intriguing.

"What makes you think it's hidden?" he asked.

"What else do you call something that you can't see?" she said with a roll of her eyes.

"Imaginary?"

"No, that's what I'd call all the help you're providing."

"If you two could try to stay on track." Angeal said, appearing at the doorway. "Hawke, are we any closer to… whatever it is?"

"I can't tell. Do you want to keep looking or should we move on?"

Sephiroth arrived from having searched the other wing of the house.

"I doubt we're going to find any-"

"There's a draft in here." Sephiroth said abruptly, cutting Angeal off.

There was a beat of silence as that registered.

"A hidden passage you think?" The black haired soldier asked, looking around the room again with renewed interest.

Hawke gave Genesis a look that plainly said  _I told you so._ He ignored it.

Angeal and Sephiroth meanwhile were discussing how to get to whatever secrets the room might be hiding. Angeal was in favour of just breaking through the wall, but Sephiroth disagreed since they had no idea of what might lay behind it. As Genesis joined the argument Hawke took notice of the bookshelf built against one of the walls.

A secret door had to have secret door handle.

With barely a thought she detonated a small focused kinetic spell that threw all the books off the shelf.

All except one. The lone book stood unmoved in the middle of the shelf.

The others halted their conversation at the sudden bombardment of literature, wondering what on Gaia the mage was up to, until they noticed the conspicuous lone book on the shelf. With a pleased smile Hawke pulled the solitary tome forward. With a distinct 'click' half the opposite wall opened up.

"How cliché." Said Genesis.

* * *

 

Deep beneath the mansion they found a laboratory at the end of a rough stone passage. Sephiroth didn't say it aloud but he was certain that he recognized it. He had supposedly been born in Nibelheim, but that the labs should be the most familiar was unsettling.

The area was lit by old electric lights dangling from the low ceiling. Half the bulbs had popped when Angeal flipped the switch leaving them in an eerie and inconsistent orange glow.

The Lab held two large tubes full of Mako, each large enough to hold a person. There was an operating table with metal restraints pushed into one of the corners. The floor was stone tiles with a metal grate for a drain in the middle of the room. A green tint from years of mako fumes seeping through the room stained the walls and ceiling.

Sephiroth examined the uncomfortably familiar equipment. Here in the dim light over a cold stone floor it looked so much more barbaric then the labs back in Midgar, with their sterile surfaces and white tiles. He had no memory of this room.

Yet he expected the air to be filled with screams.

Behind him the others chatted quietly. Genesis asked Hawke about the anomaly she had been chasing. Sephiroth tuned it out, preferring to sink into the silence of his own mind.

_They are but distractions my son. You are above such things._

He pinched the bridge of his nose. He stood before one of the glowing Mako tanks and tried to sort through his thoughts, his gaze lost in the sea of thick green.

There was no silence in his mind now. Jenova's enticing words and constant presence swirled through his consciousness, intermingling with his own thoughts. Sometimes he couldn't tell which was which. That didn't scare him as much as it should.

How much of his mind was, in fact, his own mind? How much of his thought processes had been taken over by Jenova? How much of Sephiroth remained?

How much of Sephiroth had ever existed? The thought passed through his mind with no panic, just cold observation as though it were happening to someone else. He had always known he was different. Now he knew why.

The whispers seemed to calm and in the ringing silence of his mind he faced the thoughts he had been building up to for who knew how long.

Who was he?

Beneath the public façade Shinra had crafted, beneath the stern exterior the military demanded of him. Who was he? What was he?

Jenova was a part of him. Maybe even most of him.

His Mother.

No! He jerked back, recoiling against his own thoughts, belated slivers of panic taking hold. She wasn't- she couldn't be.

Jenova was a monster. She was nothing to him but a target.

Not his Mother.

Just a target. That was good. He could handle a target; it was something he could focus on and work towards.

He just had to trust that he could actually overcome this target. That he really had the strength to silence the voice that was not his mother. To end the song that whispered to him in the dark; that sang to him even when he was submerged in a caustic tank of mako, that brought comfort when he was strapped to an operating table and Hojo's scalpel dug deep.

He had a mission. Kill the target. Nothing else mattered.

Shaking his head as though he might dislodge his thoughts, he moved on. The others followed. He didn't see the concerned looks they shared.

Beyond the lab was a library. He recognized the shelved books on sight: they were thick medical journals, the sort Hojo favoured. And just like Hojo's lab notes back in Midgar, they were a mess of loose papers covered in scrawling equations and shoved wherever they would fit.

He pulled a book down at random.

"Project S." he read aloud.

Everyone suddenly went very quiet. He looked up at them, Angeal and Genesis both noticeably not meeting his eyes.

"Does that mean something?" Hawke asked when the silence stretched for an uncomfortable while.

"I am Project S." He said slowly before turning a hard look on Genesis, "Am I not?"

The red head hesitated a moment before nodding.

"You are." Genesis said quietly. He looked back at the laboratory, partly visible through the open door. "This must be where it all began, where hojo…"

"Stitched me together." Sephiroth said coldly.

"No different from the rest of us." Genesis snapped, "At least he got it right with you."

"Yes Genesis," he drawled with biting sarcasm "I'm more in tune with the demon that haunts us, feel free to envy me."

Genesis practically snarled, "You haven't had to suffer through your own body tearing itself apart after rejecting the jenova cells-"

"Instead I was sliced open and reassembled until I could barely even be called human."

"Enough!" shouted Angeal, positioning himself between the two fuming men. "We're here to kill a monster. Nothing else matters right now."

Genesis backed down, having the grace to look at least slightly repentant. Sephiroth just turned to face the book shelf. He didn't have the patience for Genesis' petulance today.

"If these books are about Project S then they have information on Jenova and we have our work cut out for us." Angeal continued, his patented look of reprimand switching between the two of them. "Pick a shelf and get reading."

Knowing better than to argue with Angeal under the circumstances, they both found their own corners to exist in. With a resigned sigh Sephiroth mechanically drew a book from the shelf and steeled himself to read whatever horrors Hojo had hidden within it.

The books documented the entirety of Project S. Laid out before him was the exact chemical equation that Hojo had devised to create his perfect soldier. The words were poison.

Every diagram, every theory, it was like a blow to the gut. The precise technique was recorded, every injection, every incision, every bone broken just to see how quickly till it healed. How much alien tissue to introduce before triggering rejection. The numbness within him splintered, the fires of a slow burning rage reaching up through the cracks.

He closed his eyes, his hand going to the book shelf to support himself.

It was just information. Quanitifiable data, nothing more. That calmed him a little until he realised they were Hojo's words he was chanting to himself. His fists clenched. He had the uncharacteristic desire to set something on fire.

* * *

 

The three soldiers were all engrossed in the books, studiously sifting through the endless lab notes.

Hawke couldn't bring herself to do the same. She had read as much as she could but this was abhorrent on a level even she couldn't stomach. This driven brutality under the guise of research, it reminded her too sharply of her own mother's death. She didn't think anyone could have found a way to make such a horror worse, but the inclusion of an unborn baby and the Blight absolutely achieved that.

Lowering the book she quietly left the library. She was of no help here, the soldiers had it covered.

There had been a second door back in the labs. The others hadn't paid it any mind but it had snagged her attention. The anomaly, whatever was bothering the Fade, was behind that door.

Opening it she found a rough stone corridor with barely any lighting. After quickly checking that her staff and daggers were all accounted for, she followed the passage. The ragged edge of the veil was all the more noticeable here, she was definitely getting closer.

She took the last turn in the passage.

It left her in cramped room filled with coffins.

Very promising, she thought with a resigned sigh.

The anomaly was definitely in this room, so it must be in the coffins then? There wasn't anything else here. She couldn't feel any blood magic –it tended to leave a stench – so that begged the question: what exactly was going on? It didn't feel corrupted per say, but her skin prickled and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. Recollections of countless unnatural terrors that haunted the Fade passed through her mind.

She couldn't just leave the Fade all ragged and uneven though, it was poor practice.

She approached the nearest casket.

It was probably a good thing that the others were preoccupied in the library. Genesis at least tended to have reservations about desecrating corpses, something about respect for the dead. When you got attacked by mangy skeletons as often as she did though, it was pretty easy to lose respect for the bodies of the dearly departed. What you take from a corpse now it won't try to bludgeon you with later.

With such reassuring thoughts in mind she examined the pine box.

It was locked. Not nailed down, but actually padlocked.

Alarms went off in her head, her thoughts running through a storied list of demons, wraiths, and abominations that might be hiding within.

She got out her lock picks and got to work. It was a serious lock and demanded her full attention. With a satisfied "Aha!" the lock finally clicked open.

Not a second later the lid violently burst open, a flash of red and black flying in her face.

Hawke stumbled back, instinctively throwing a shield spell over herself while her other hand snapped to her staff. The deafening bang of the coffin's lid slamming on the ground reverberated around the stone chamber.

A figure shrouded in a cloak that covered half his face stood perched on the edge of the coffin, peering down at her from the barrel of a hefty looking handgun.

Glowing red eyes studied her from beneath unkempt black hair that spilled over a dirty bandana. His gaze was tortured, a tangible agony festering within eyes that had seen far too much. What little she could see of his skin was sickly pale, but it wasn't the sallowness of the undead.

Hawke stood her ground, staring straight back and wondering what on earth she was looking at. He looked more human than anything else she could think of, but the fabric of the Fade was pulling around him like an awkward cloak. That was definitely not normal. He didn't appear to even notice.

"You are not Hojo." He said with a voice deep and rough from disuse. He sounded almost disappointed and what little she could see of his face showed a deep frown. She wouldn't have expected anyone to be disappointed at not seeing Hojo, but then given the coffin he had been locked in perhaps he had his reasons.

"My apologies?" She offered hesitantly while strengthening her invisible barrier. The gun remained trained on her.

"I don't know you." He said after a long silence, finally lowering his gun. "You must leave."

"I don't even get thanks for unlocking your coffin?" she asked. Surely there was more to it. There was always more to it.

"I sleep in atonement. I do not deserve to wake." It sounded mechanical almost, as though he had said it a thousand times over. She wondered just how long he'd been 'atoning'. The gun disappeared into the folds of his cloak and he stepped down from the lip of the coffin and promptly got back into it. "This mansion is the beginning of my nightmares."

"I doubt you're the only one." Hawke muttered, "I'll be surprised if Sephiroth ever sleeps peacefully again."

The strange man froze.

"Sephiroth?" he asked, looking at her strangely. The glowing red eyes looked almost desperate, but the reason why was beyond her.

"Yes?" A voice said from behind her. She swung around to see the General himself rush into the room, a medical journal still clutched in his hand. Genesis and Angeal came in behind him and immediately froze at the sight of the man sitting in a coffin. "We heard a loud noise, what happened?" Angeal said, addressing Hawke but not taking his eyes from the stranger.

"Nothing, so far." She said.

"Are you Sephiroth?" The red eyed man asked, staring at the silver haired man in shock and starting to look completely overwhelmed. "Has it…has it really been so long?" he whispered to himself.

"I am Sephiroth. Who are you?" the General said. His face was expressionless but his voice betrayed suspicion.

There was a heavy silence before the man answered.

"I am Vincent Valentine."

Sephiroth's breath seemed to leave him all at once.

"Valentine." He said in dismay and disbelief. "Surely not…"

"How do you know who I am?"

Sephiroth looked at Vincent searchingly for a long moment. Genesis and Angeal behind him just looked confused. Finally the General pulled himself up to his full height.

"I am your son."

Absolute silence reigned. Genesis and Angeal were clearly surprised but Vincent looked like he'd just been shot. He made a sound of dismay that was more of a whimper then an actual word.

"Lucrezia… why didn't you tell me?" He whispered. He hung his head.

"Why did you let this happen?" Sephiroth demanded, a veneer of calm failing to stifle the pain in his words. He threw the medical journal he held onto the ground before him, the words  _Project S_ stamped in black ink on the cover.

Vincent stared at the book and became even more pale then his already watery pallor.

"I tried to stop her," he offered, "but I waited too long. She said it was what she wanted. She said the child wasn't mine." His eyes never left the book as he spoke, presenting his defence before damning evidence.

"Why did she consent to this?" Sephiroth said in a hard tone. His expression was implacable but his eyes spoke of bitter pain.

"It was Hojo's idea. She thought it would gain her recognition from the scientific community. She started having injections and the nightmares began; I didn't think it was right. But I was too late." Vincent finally looked the General in the eye. "This sleep is my punishment for that."

Sephiroth's eyes narrowed at his words and his mouth pulled down into a sneer.

"That's all you have to say?"

"I'm so sorry." He said, his words empty of all but anguish.

 


	31. Traitors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it turns out I completely forgot about Cloud. By the time I realised I'd forgotten the main character of the whole jolly series it was too late to shoehorn him in. So terribly sorry everyone, no Strife today, the Strife has gone away. Also, thanks for all the lovely feedback! Only three chapters to go!

 

"Is he going to be alright?" Hawke asked, looking back at where Sephiroth was interrogating Vincent in a room filled with skeletons. Watching such a painful and clearly personal moment had felt like intruding so Hawke, Genesis, and Angeal had left the General to 'reconnect' with his new found father without an audience.

"He's never had any biological family before." Genesis said, settling in one of the chairs in the underground library. "I doubt he ever expected to either."

She wondered if Vincent would be anything more than a bloody stain on the wall by the time they were done. Sephiroth hadn't exactly been thrilled at his father's apologies for all the brutal experimentation he had suffered. Not that it was her business and she certainly wasn't about to try to defend Vincent. They'd all read the medical files. It was a wonder Sephiroth wasn't weeping in a corner somewhere or setting things on fire, or whatever it was people did when having breakdowns on this planet.

"This probably wasn't the best way for him to find out." She said, flipping through a book left open on the desk and then immediately regretting it when the page opened to a diagram. "Anything about Jenova in all that?" she asked. The archdemon obviously wasn't in the mansion. That left the Reactor.

"Plenty." Genesis said, "Though I don't know how helpful any of it will be." He looked irritably at the nearest shelf. He leafed through a book of half-finished chemical equations and then let it fall carelessly to the ground. "The majority of this is genetics at a molecular level and the rest is just Hojo's incoherent rambling. He was clearly enamoured with her though it's obvious he had no idea what he was really dealing with."

"Do we?" Angeal asked, looking worn out as he leaned against one of the book shelves. "Half the time he writes about Jenova like she's just a dead hunk of meat, then he suddenly talks about her likes she's some sort of deity. What are we actually dealing with here? In a practical sense, I mean."

"Archdemons normally take the form of dragons," Hawke said, "but then this is hardly normal. I don't think they're bound to any particular form, since they can hop between infected bodies when killed. There's no saying what it will look like." She wracked her brain for anything else that might help. She had ample experience with your garden variety darkspawn but this was far beyond her. Anders' had known more but he only really talked about the Blight when brooding over really strong liquor, at which point she had usually had a few herself.

None of it had seemed important at the time. She never would have thought that lives would end up resting on half remembered bar room conversations. However, as murky as some of those memories were, the way Anders had talked about the death of the last archdemon had stuck with her. The tragic account of the Hero of Ferelden's sacrificial death just as she struck the blow that saved them all.

And people had the gall to call Hawke a hero, she thought bitterly.

"I hope it isn't a dragon, I don't want to have to deal with that right now." said Angeal, stirring her from her miry thoughts.

"There are enough of the beasts in these parts already." Genesis said absently.

None of them seemed to know what to do now, but they clearly had no desire to return to the books that stood around them in towering racks. But outside was reality. Despite all their research they still didn't know how to kill Jenova. Not without a Soldier's death.

They remained on the premise of waiting for Sephiroth. What they ought to do afterwards nobody said. It was getting late and they couldn't afford to be indecisive for much longer. Genesis and Angeal both had dark rings under their eyes. She wondered if they would be able to get any sleep here, or if it was wise to even try. The others hadn't said anything but it was clear that they were straining under the weight of Jenova's mental attacks. Could they afford to wait? How long could they keep going like this?

"Is Vincent the anomaly you felt?" Angeal asked after a long moment of silence.

"Yeah. There's something… not quite right about him."

"Beside the fact that he's been sleeping in a coffin for the last thirty years?" said Genesis.

"Beside that."

The door behind them slammed open. They all spun around just in time to see Sephiroth march out with wrath in his eyes and a storm brewing in his wake. He didn't so much as look at them as he stalked out of the basement and up the stairs.

Behind him they could see Vincent standing alone in the stone passage. He was still in one piece, though his expression said he probably would have preferred to have just been decapitated.

"I guess that means we're done here." She said into the stunned silence.

* * *

 

"Sephiroth wait!"

Angeal chased after the General who had gone storming off blindly. He exited the mansion to find the town now shrouded under a heavy layer of fog that must have rolled down from the mountains. It was impossible to see beyond a few meters in any direction. He plunged forward determined to find his target. He didn't know what Vincent had told him but he was almost certain that Sephiroth shouldn't be left alone to brew right now. Something about the rage burning in his eyes worried Angeal in a way few other things ever had.

Sephiroth rarely displayed his emotions openly but Angeal had seen him upset before, angry even. Not in all the years he had known the man had he ever seen such banked up fury.

He could barely see Sephiroth's silhouette up ahead. He was heading away from the town, up along one of the wandering paths whose destinations couldn't be seen through the fog. Small gusts of half-hearted wind swirled around them, making it harder to see the mass of silver hair.

He finally caught up to him. He was standing on a small outcropping that pierced through the mists and gave a bleak view of the blasted heath stretched out before the mountains. Sephiroth didn't appear to see any of it. His fists were clenched.

He didn't react when Angeal stood next to him.

"What did Valentine say?" the black haired soldier asked cautiously, wondering if it was wise to poke the dragon. He thought it might be better for the General to actually talk about it though.

"Nothing but excuses." Sephiroth said, his eyes narrowed and his voice low. "That's all he is. A wretch wallowing in self-pity and pretending that it's remorse."

"Who is he?" Angeal asked, still trying to figure out where everything fit in. Genesis hadn't told him anything about Sephiroth's birth certificate or parentage so this was all news to him.

"He was a Turk, once. He was assigned to protect her, Lucrezia.  _My mother_." He spat the words with venom. "She was just some grasping scientist whose theories were laughed at until Hojo deigned to find her useful." He finally turned and looked at Angeal, his agonized emotions bleeding out through his eyes. "Do you know what Valentine said, why he stood by and let this happen?"

Angeal could only shake his head in ignorance. Sephiroth spoke on, his voice changing from thunderous to dangerously calm.

"He said that he loved her too much to stop her." He let out a harsh bark of laughter. "He let a pregnant woman inject herself with experimental mako and alien DNA… out of love."

The absolute scorn in his voice was palpable. Angeal wanted to provide comfort or at least a practical solution but what solution was there for this? Sephiroth had never had much patience for tender emotions but betrayal he knew well.

"I spent most of my childhood in that lab." The General continued, his frustration and anger building as he spoke. "On that operating table. In those mako tanks. The entire time, my own father was two doors away, rotting in his coffin and feeling sorry for himself. This is my great heritage? A pathetic Turk too afraid to face his own failings and a scientist so desperate for recognition she would sacrifice her own son for it?"

"No wonder everyone thinks I'm a monster. With such a beginning how could I be anything less?" he murmured to himself.

"You're not a monster." Angeal said stiffly. He was ignored.

"And why shouldn't they recoil from me? I'm not even human. They would gladly see me burn for just being different." He lowered his head, his hair falling forward and shrouding his face. "Perhaps I should return the favour." He said quietly.

"Sephiroth, listen to yourself!" Angeal said stepping forward and grabbing his friend's arm. He couldn't listen to such talk; it was irrational and sounded nothing like the man he knew. It sounded hauntingly like the voice that sang in the night. Sephiroth just looked startled, as though he'd forgotten he even had an audience. "It doesn't matter if you're human or not. You are more than just your DNA, you always have been. Despite what was done to you you've become the greatest General in history; you're the strongest soldier the world's ever seen!" He watched carefully as he spoke, desperately hoping to get through to him. "I think the family you choose for yourself is more important than simple biology."

Sephiroth watched him in silence for a moment, his mind turning over his words. He stepped away, not meeting his eyes and shaking his head at something.

"You're right." He finally said, looking up and snapping out of whatever trance he had fallen into. "Vincent and Lucrezia aren't my parents. They don't matter."

"Sephiroth?"

His head suddenly shot up. They both heard the echoing bark of a gun and their hands immediately flew to their weapons. No attack was forthcoming though and the mists were too thick to reveal where it was coming from.

"Perhaps that's Vincent killing himself." The General said stoically.

"Sephiroth!" Angeal exclaimed in outraged protest.

"Hm, no, he's probably too much the passive type to actually pull the trigger. He did go in that direction though."

"We should investigate." He said, listening carefully. It sounded like it was coming from the opposite direction of the town. The echoes of combat resonated about the ravines.

"You're welcome to." Sephiroth said. Without another word he turned and walked back towards the town.

Angeal frowned at his retreating back before focusing on the din of battle.

* * *

 

Hawke had stepped out of the aging mansion into the cooling night air.

After Sephiroth's dramatic departure from the basement lab they had all gone their different ways, Angeal chasing down the General while Genesis went to book them rooms at the inn. She didn't know where Vincent was. Perhaps he had returned to his coffin.

In the meantime, Hawke had no particular mission. The jenova issue wasn't something she could tackle on her own (no matter how reckless she was she still knew how to pick her battles) and the others clearly wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon. She settled for taking a walk.

She had hoped to enjoy some fresh air after the oppressive basement but the wind had dropped, leaving the ravine feeling stagnant. She imagined the sky would be getting dark, somewhere above the heavy mists. The last sliver of the waning moon might even be rising.

But not over Nibelheim. Here, it was cold and dreary, the grey fogs lending an eerie glow to the already dejected looking town.

Hawke picked a direction at random and started walking.

After everything the mansion had revealed she was troubled and thankful for the time alone.

She would be more of a liar then usual if she said that the mansion hadn't left her unsettled. The secrets hidden within that basement were abhorrent, the things they exposed about Sephiroth uniquely cruel. And if Vincent was to be believed, then Sephiroth's mother had willingly volunteered him for the experiment.

She couldn't fathom how anyone could do such a thing.

It reminded Hawke of just how much she had to be thankful for. Her family had never been perfect, but they were loving and loyal. Even Carver, spoiled brat that he was, she could always trust him to have her back when it really mattered. She should have been more grateful for that, back when she could have told him. One by one, fate had taken them all.

They all went too soon. Far too soon. Even her mother could have still had decades left before she was- when Quentin-

…when it ended.

But there was no point dwelling on it. Her family had been great, excellent in fact, and she appreciated the time they had together. She was quite content in their memory.

Well, content to not think about it too much which was almost the same thing. Besides, she'd had excellent friends along the way, which made it a much easier burden to bear.

She looked up from the little path she had been following. An uneven trail had been leading her away from the town, where it was taking her she had no idea.

Now she found herself before a small copse of trees, clinging stubbornly to life on the hard mountainside. They were a battered group of gangly pines, with far less leaves then any self-respecting evergreen ought to have.

A cold glint that didn't look natural caught her eye. There was something beyond the grove.

Intrigued, she wove her way through the trees. Perhaps there was another building or two as part of the town. As she made her way forward the fog relinquished the shape it had been shrouding.

A Shinra helicopter.

She paused in confusion. What was that doing here?

There were other Shinra people in the town?

Feeling on edge at the sight she instinctively cast a shield spell over herself. Shinra wasn't technically her enemy but after what the mansion had revealed just seeing the logo made her wary.  _With good reason_ , she thought. A Shinra helicopter; randomly in the outskirts of Nibelheim the same day the top three SOLDIERs came here to kill Jenova. What a crazy coincidence.

Undoubtedly there would be a perfectly innocent explanation that didn't involve Shinra being paranoid butchering monsters. An explanation that would probably see a lot of mileage when report time rolled around, she thought.

She moved slowly, doing the best she could to stay out of sight. From her view of the cockpit, she was pretty sure it was empty.

Her first thought was to loot, but the second was that she had no idea what sort of security measures there might be and that the others would probably like to know as well.

With a sigh she turned to go back to the town.

A gunshot rang out.

Her invisible barrier flared up, absorbing the impact and letting the bullet fall harmlessly to the ground behind her. Her hand instantly on her staff, she swung around to face her enemy, doubling the strength of her shield and letting a massive bolt of chain lightning build up in her mind. They'd attacked her first, all bets were off. Her staff lashed out but faltered mid swing.

"Reno?" she stared at the unusually stern Turk pointing a pistol at her head. He was as unkempt as always but his grim expression and unwavering aim were foreign to her.

She hadn't seen that one coming. Perhaps she should have.

He fired.

The bullet bounced off her barrier, just like the previous one, as did the next three.

"What are you doing Reno?" she asked, just sounding tired. She lowered her staff, though not her guard. He kept firing, each bullet aimed directly at her forehead. When his clip emptied he just methodically reloaded, cold eyes never straying from hers.

"Why couldn't you have just kept your head down, Hawke?" He said, sounding far more genuine then she had ever heard. For a split moment his eyes glinted with sadness. Then his professional apathy returned and he raised the handgun again. "This ain't personal."

"You're pointing a weapon at my person. That's pretty damn personal, Reno." She said, the sting of betrayal colouring her voice. There wasn't time for being upset though, there was still a gun pointed at her head. "Look I don't know who I pissed off, but can't you just let me go into hiding? I can disappear pretty well when I want to."

He just shook his head.

Was that it? Time to kill another friend? Sure, she didn't know Reno in any profound way, not beyond the cocky card sharp who drank more then was good for him and wasn't nearly as talented a pickpocket as he thought, but he had been a friend. She sighed in defeat. A friend she could slaughter without trying all that hard. His medium level shield materia that wouldn't block even half of her arsenal.

"I'll miss ya, you know." He said. She'd miss him too. He cocked his gun. She lifted her staff.

"Hey Reno, I don't think there are any threats out-" a very familiar head of black spikes burst out of the thicket before noticing her and freezing mid-sentence.

"Zack?" What? He wasn't meant to be here.

"Uh, Reno? What's going on?" he asked hurriedly, his eyes flicking between Hawke and the gun pointed straight at her. "I don't think she's a threat."

"She's an enemy of Shinra." Reno replied.

"What? Since when?" he asked, looking flabbergasted.

"President's orders." Reno said quietly.

"Hawke, what did you…" he started but then thought better of it.

"I guess I'm just too inconvenient." She said trying not to sound too biter.

The SOLDIER's shoulders drooped.

"I'm sorry Hawke." He drew his sword reluctantly, sending her a forlorn expression completely at odds with the cold steel blade he held.

She felt the steady weight of her staff, already stained with the blood of so many. She didn't want to do this, but they weren't really giving her a choice. Reno was one thing, Turks were just assassins in suits, he knew exactly how this went. But Zack, he was just a wide eyed kid really, he shouldn't be caught up in political assassinations. He was still naive enough to think Shinra might be something more than just a money making venture with its own private army.

His expression said he really didn't want to kill her but his sword said he'd do it anyway. She doubted he'd risen so high through the ranks by disobeying orders. What choice did that leave her?

Aerith would kill her. And Angeal- shit, Angeal might actually kill her.

Assuming she survived this fight first that was. She could probably handle a Turk but Zack was enhanced and by all accounts he was also just damn good. She stepped around to the side, feeling trapped in both circumstance and positioning. A faint tug of the Fade pulling unnaturally caught her attention but she didn't let it show on her face.

Reno and Zack circled around with her, each looking for the best footing. Zack seemed to be more bothered by the ethics of it then the difficulty of the fight. Reno on the other hand was absolutely serious and not wasting any energy with his usual slouching demeanour. It seemed he knew not to underestimate her.

In his complete focus he didn't see the ragged red cloak swirl behind him seconds before an intricate black gun smashed against the back of his head. As Reno crumpled Zack immediately struck out at Vincent who leapt back into the swirling fog. Hawkes covered Vincent's retreat with a violent burst of lightning staggered Zack. She immediately followed it up with a blast spell that sent him flying through the air.

"Vincent!" She called, "I thought you went back to your coffin?"

"You broke the lock." He said, his gravelling voice heralding his appearance from the mists behind her.

Zack flipped in mid-air and landed on his feet. Hawke ignored Vincent and focused on the Soldier. He took in the situation with barely a glance and he threw a healing spell at Reno then charged at Hawke, sword swinging.

She redoubled her shield spells as she dodged the blow and cast her attacks as quickly as she could. Reno was swiftly back on his feet and firing into the melee with unerring aim.

Vincent, to her surprise, covered her back, firing his gun and casting materia with professional efficiency. He was the last person she would have expected to help out but she wasn't going to turn away allies. She couldn't rely on anyone else to sort this out and Reno and Zack were not going to back down.

She refused to die on Shinra's orders. No matter what it cost.


	32. Inner Demons

"What's wrong, Aerith?" Elmyra asked, watching her daughter sulk over a pot plant. She didn't know what had brought on this strange moodiness but it had gone on long enough.

"Nothing." Aerith said. She snipped off a leafy stem and watched it float to the ground. Her expression would have been one of grave indignation, if not for the pout that just made her look sulky.

"Aerith." Elymra repeated, the sigh of a long suffering mother seeping into her voice.

Shoulders sagging, the girl opened her mouth but then shut it again.

"What would you do if…" She chose her words cautiously. "Say you wanted to help someone. But they'd already made you promise not to." She looked up at Elmyra pleadingly, "Would it be wrong to help them anyway?"

What an odd question, Elmyra thought. But then, it was very much the sort of situation Aerith would find herself in.

"Who needs your help?" She asked, "And why did you promise that in the first place?"

"It's Hawke. She made me promise I wouldn't leave Midgar." Aerith put aside the flower pot and rubbed temple.

"Thank goodness for that. Hawke has a knack for sniffing out trouble." Elmyra once again rethought her decision to let the strange lady teach her daughter. She had certainly helped in many ways; she had nurtured a newfound confidence and self-respect in Aerith that was beautiful to see. But she had also nurtured the mischievous and nosey parts of Aerith and Elmyra found that far less thrilling.

"But what if she needs me?" She asked imploringly.

"Dear, I'm sure she's perfectly capable of taking care of herself."

Aerith looked almost affronted at that. It reminded Elmyra that somewhere along the way her precious little Cetra had become a young woman. She wasn't a timid child anymore, she had grown up so much sooner than Elmyra had expected.

"Maybe you can find some way to help without leaving the city?" she offered.

"I…" Aerith's eyebrows pulled down in thought until then her face lit up with realisation. She smiled with an ever so slightly mischievous glint in her eye. "I think I'm tired. I'll go get some sleep. Thanks mum!" she said, before bounding upstairs to her bedroom.

Elmyra just watched her leave in confusion before shaking her head with a sigh. That was not what she had been expecting but if Aerith thought a nap was the best solution then she had no complaints.

She was sleeping an awful lot these days though.

* * *

Hawke stumbled back from a vicious kick. Zack's sword lashed out and she barely danced out of the way in time. On the gravelly slopes of Nibelheim they fought on, the thick fog enforcing the darkness of the starless night. The copse of trees was burning after being struck by her lightning, the hissing fires providing the only light and sending eerie dancing shadows through the mist.

With a quick strike of lightning Hawke had him drawing back and fumbling for his materia. Her hand pressed against a slash wound on her side, blood oozing over her fingers. She tried to close it with a swift healing spell before the barrage began again. As hesitant as Zack had been to kill her, his fighting style harboured no such uncertainty. Blades whistled through the air without mercy.

The crack of gun fire echoed around them. Reno shot at Vincent when the low visibility allowed him and switched to an electrically charged baton whenever his opponent drew near. Vincent returned fire with unerring aim while leaping about within the cloying fog.

Zack lunged at Hawke; he was focusing on sword play as he had no offensive materia with him. At first he had been mostly unconcerned with the attacks she threw but now his sword arm had a tremor in it from the massive lightning strikes she had called down and he was no longer taking this fight lightly. She'd covered the ground with glyphs and hexes and he'd learned quickly how brutal her magic was.

He'd also discovered that as long as they were close to Vincent she wouldn't risk any devastating area effect spells.

She cast a gravity spell at him, hoping to slow his enhanced speed with the massive load of extra weight dragging him down but he barely seemed to notice. It was like fighting a Qunari, he had brute strength on his side and even a glancing blow would do untold damage to her comparatively weak frame. He lacked experience but was picking up on her style quickly.

Knowing she needed to weaken him somehow she threw a blast of ice at point blank range, the biting cold sinking into his arms and leaving them stiff and his fingers numb. He stumbled back with a yell of pain at the seeping frostbite but recovered quickly and charged her again.

Behind him, Reno was gaining the upper hand. Vincent's shots remained steady but his acrobatic movements had been wavering, decades of inactivity having sapped his endurance. His attacks were getting wilder and more desperate. Reno claimed every opening available but the erratic strikes drove him back onto the defensive.

Suddenly Hawke felt the Fade lurch. She shook her head to try and throw off the distraction, Zack pressing his advantage in her moment of confusion. Beyond Zack she caught sight of Vincent staggering back, a hand pressed to his shoulder. Blood dripped over his fingers. Reno reloaded his gun.

The Fade stuttered and then pulled tighter around Vincent in a strangled chokehold that felt so incomprehensibly  _wrong,_ even Zack felt it. He paused in confusion.

Vincent fell to his knees with a strangled gasp. His form shifted unnaturally, the red cloak tearing as a foreign shape twisted into reality. Echoing and hollow, they heard the crack of bones breaking followed by the tear of flesh realigning itself. Reno's gun lowered as he stared on in shock and Zack's sword faltered in mid-air, his mouth hanging open in disgust.

Hawke's grip on her staff strengthened. She knew exactly what was happening, even if her mind rebelled at it. Her ally was an abomination. A torrent of curses flew through her mind. There wasn't time for this! Not now, not again.

With a deafening roar the creature that had been Vincent towered over them. Glowing yellow eyes glared down at them from beneath red membranes that flared up from its head like a crown of daggers threatening the very heavens. Skeletal wings twitched above it as it pinned them with its gaze. Hawke briefly spared a thought for how she probably should have seen this coming.

For a moment the three humans just stared, the previous fight forgotten. Then the demon roared.

Hawke threw a fireball at it.

The demon swung around in fury and charged her. Reno immediately started shooting but his bullets all bounced off its armoured hide. Zack slashed at it as it rushed past to its target. The battle lines had changed in less than a second, Shinra's mandate forgotten in the face of a much more immediate threat.

Hawkes arm buckled under the weight of a crushing blow. Her shield spell snapped into place at the last second and she staggered back. Razor sharp talons clanged against the barrier mere inches from her face. Too close. She threw a lightning bolt that shook the demon and gave her time to move.

From the corner of her eye she saw Zack leap onto the back of the monster and try to stab it. His sword barely broke through the skin and he was thrown off. Hawke swore and she cast as quickly as she could. Zack and Reno had no idea how to fight a demon and it showed. Despite her own experience she didn't even know what sort of demon this was and she was left blindly guessing what vulnerabilities it could have.

Reno's bullets finally got its attention and it turned and back handed him, sending him sailing through the air.

Seizing the chance she cast a wave of entropic magic that swallowed up the battlefield. The shroud of corroding magic clung to the creature and it fell back with a pained cry. Zack went to charge the weakened enemy but was caught in the edges of her spell and nearly collapsed. With an agonized scream he lurched back to get out of the crossfire. He fell to his knees panting and shaking.

Hawke kept her focus on the demon. Pointing her staff, a whirling torrent of energy sucked it in and held the abomination down. It tried to attack but the magic sapped its strength and dragged it to its knees, the haze of green magic rushing over the demon's form.

Within the whirling magic the demon looked up, it's glowing yellow eyes narrowing at her. With a guttural roar it rushed to its feet and charged. It broke through her spells and bore down on her. With a vicious slash of its talons she was knocked down, her armour saving her vitals but her arm gushing blood. She scrambled back, the demon towering over her and her staff out of reach. The light from the burning trees behind her cast a haunting red light on the abomination. With a snarl it drew back its arm to strike, razor sharp talons already coated with her blood.

"Sorry Vincent." She mumbled. With a yank of her hand magic uprooted the burning tree behind her and brought it over her head straight down onto the demon. The monster crumpled under the weight. It struggled and roared in fury, its talons clawing against the trunk. For just a moment she lifted the tree but up again only to smash it down onto the demon once more. And then again, just for good measure. Completely pinned under the pine, its strength finally failed it and the creature collapsed.

Hawke's magic dropped, all her spells calling it quits in her exhaustion.

The demon faded away, leaving an unconscious Vincent looking small and battered beneath the tree.

Reno and Zack approached. The Turk was mostly in one piece, while Zack was still shaking from the hit she'd accidentally dealt him.

Reno's gun was trained on her again. Zack's sword was pointed at her throat.

"Oh you've got to be kidding me." Hawke said, still sitting on the ground with her staff knocked beyond her reach.

"Hey!" a new voice shouted.

Angeal rushed between her and Zack, glared fiercely. The sound of his sword knocking Zack's blade out of his hand echoed in the sudden silence.

Reno took a step back and looked as though he intended to slip away before Angeal pinned him with a vicious glare. The Turk froze and offered a cocky grin that did not appear to win him any points.

Angeal turned back to Zack.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" the older Soldier demanded.

"She tried to kill me!" He said. His voice was still slightly shaky after the entropic spell he'd been caught in.

"What?" Angeal blinked in surprise then looked down at her, his glare of reprimand diverted to the apostate. "There had better be a very good explanation for this." He said quietly and Hawke got the impression that not meeting his standards would not have a happy result for anyone.

"Technically, he tried to kill me first and I was acting in self-defence." She said carelessly. Angeal's assessing glare reminded her of Aveline when Hawke had just done something particularly stupid. Funny, she thought she'd developed immunity to it. Maybe she was just out of practise.

"I was just following orders!" Zack said, raising his hands in a bid for innocence.

"Hojo wants her dead." Reno offered "Authorized any means necessary."

"You said it was the president's orders." Zack said, looking back at the Turk.

"Same thing." Reno said with a shrug. The younger Soldier just looked confused. Then he shook his head and addressed his mentor again.

"What was I supposed to do, Angeal?" He asked, sounding less like he was defending himself and more like he just didn't know.

The older Soldier stepped back warily, watching Hawke through narrowed eyes. He lowered his sword though it was more a gesture of confusion than of peace. Zack ran a hand through his hair in agitation.

"I don't want her dead, but don't we have to follow orders?" he asked.

For his part, Angeal just looked between Hawke and his sword. The red light from the burning trees dyed it a bloody red, leaving the blade dark and heavy in his hand.

He was Shinra's Soldier. Hawke looked him in the eye and waited for the verdict. Her hand twitched to her dagger. It wouldn't be any help anyway.

She couldn't kill Angeal. Even if she hadn't been drained from the previous fight, he was as enhanced as Genesis was. Against him and Zack she wouldn't have even the slightest chance. And even if she did somehow manage it, Genesis would never forgive her.

"No one is killing anybody." Angeal said. He looked her in the eye and returned his sword to its place on his back. Hawke breathed a sigh of relief. Zack just looked confused, but he followed suit. Reno remained as he was, his gun still in his hand, until at Angeal's pointed stare he rolled his eyes and the weapon disappearing into his suit somewhere. She wondered how long that would last.

Angeal gave her a hand up.

"What happened to Vincent?" he asked, finally noticing the man trapped beneath an upside down tree.

* * *

Angeal herded them to the inn. It was a large building, with an optimistic number of rooms for such a far flung town. There they found Genesis quietly reading while waiting for the others to return.

Hawke wandered in, her left side covered in blood. He demanded an explanation for why her shoulder was in tatters but she just gestured vaguely in the direction of the others who came in after her. A wave of faintness hit her and she barely registered starting to fall until she found herself being caught. A very concerned looking Genesis swam in her vision.

She'd lost more blood then she realised. Fighting a demon again reminded her of how much she missed having a healer on hand.

_Damn you Anders._

Genesis sat Hawke down and started examining her wounds before again demanding an explanation.

Angeal had walked in behind her carrying an unconscious Vincent while Zack and Reno sulkily trailed along behind him. Reno had made some objections about not answering to any Soldiers and having his own orders, but it was just hot air and they all knew it. Being in a room full of the imposing enhanced warriors did make him look a little vulnerable, but that didn't stop him from adopting his usual relaxed and careless persona.

Angeal gave Zack a stern look and the younger Soldier offered up an account of what had happened. Hawke paid little attention, her focus chiefly on channelling her weary magic into her injuries. The healing Genesis' materia was flooding her with made it infinitely easier. He'd helped with getting her plate armour off and patching up what magic couldn't fix. She'd be sore for an age and would probably add a few extra scars to her collection but there wasn't any irreparable damage. In fact, she could probably face down another demon. She immediately regretted even thinking it and prayed the Maker didn't take her up on it.

When Zack mentioned how Shinra had put out a kill order for Hawke she felt Genesis tense. If he hadn't had his hands full she suspected he would have immediately set Reno on fire. He settled for sending the Turk a look that said he was seriously considering slicing his limbs off and watching him bleed to death.

Reno made some protest about 'Turk business' which didn't seem to carry as much weight as he hoped it would. Zack evidently noticed the growing weight of displeasure emanating from his superiors because his own involvement in the tale was kept to a bare minimum. Angeal's look of disappointment in his student was impossible to miss anyway.

At some point Sephiroth came in and the discussion turned to Vincent. He was lying on one of the beds and had yet to wake. The others didn't know what to make of his transformation but it was clear from the way they avoided that side of the room that they were unnerved.

"You threw the tree at him?" Angeal asked, when the story ended, looking at Hawke disbelievingly.

"I'm pretty sure he had it coming." She said.

"The Turk will survive." Sephiroth said coldly. He had refused to call the man anything that acknowledged their relationship.

"'Course I will," said Reno in confusion, "I'm not the one who got hit with a-"

"The  _other_  Turk." Sephiroth said, "Valentine."

"What?" Reno said, suddenly paying a lot more attention. "He's a Turk? Wait, Valentine… as in Vincent Valentine?" He looked at the passed out Vincent, a flurry of unreadable emotions passing his face.

"Hojo, you bastard." He muttered darkly. The others just exchanged confused looks and awaited an explanation. He noticed how lost they all looked. "He's a legend! Or was, at least. Way back when, he was second in charge of the Turks until he died on a mission for the science department… in Nibelheim."

"Hojo shot him," said Sephiroth, "And then experimented on him."

"And bound a demon into him, somehow." Hawke muttered. How someone could end up possessed in a world without mages was a conundrum they didn't have time for.

"And then locked him in a coffin for thirty years." Genesis finished.

Reno's hands tightened into fists. His expression was the angriest and the most genuine she had ever seen on him. Without explanation he turned around and stalked to the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" Angeal asked.

"I gotta talk to Tseng about this. Hojo thinks he can mess with the Turks..." he finished, muttering under his breath in a tone that promised of violence. He swung the door open and walked out.

"Turk." Sephiroth called. Reno turned his head back to him. "If anything should happen to Hojo," he said, pausing to ensure he had the Turk's full attention, "then we never had this conversation."

Reno just gave a feral smile and nodded before moving to leave again.

"Hang on." Genesis said, getting to his feet now that Hawke was as fixed as she was going to get. "I'll see that you make it to your helicopter in one piece." He said in a manner that implied the exact opposite. Reno's anger subsided in favour of self-preservation instincts. Genesis marched out of the room. Reno looked like he was starting to regret his life choices.

Not long afterwards Angeal left as well with Zack trailing after him. That left just Sephiroth and Hawke in the room with Vincent.

Hawke's shoulder was delicate and sore and she would have liked to get some sleep, it being well past midnight at this point. Instead she dropped into a chair and propped her staff up next to her.

The others had all been visibly unnerved by the idea that Vincent was hiding a demon and preferred to keep as much space between them as possible. Hawke stayed, not out of some misplaced concern for him but because there was a demon in there and it didn't pay to let such a thing out of your sight. She was tired, Reno had just tried to kill her, she had just tried to kill Zack, and Jenova was still out there somewhere. The last thing she needed was a demon gallivanting about the countryside.

Sephiroth remained as well. He stood by Vincent's bed almost in defiance of him, as though proclaiming that he wouldn't be moved by his estranged Father, no matter what. He looked to be deep in thought.

"You didn't really heal the degradation, did you?" Sephiroth said into the silence that had settled, not looking up at her.

Hawke gave him an odd look and wondered what she had done to give them away.

"What makes you say that?" She asked neutrally.

"You are not a healer." He said. He looked up then and carefully watched for her reaction.

Her healing spells were nothing to boast about and if not for Genesis' full-cure materia she'd probably be in need of quite a few stitches. Looking back it was foolish of them to expect the General not to notice.

"The testimony of both Angeal and Genesis doesn't convince you?" she asked with a raised brow, refusing to acknowledge his point no matter how accurate.

"Angeal may have seen you at Rocket town but he wasn't healed until a month later." Sephiroth said. Then his eyes narrowed. "And Genesis lies."

Hawke's face pulled into a shit eating grin. "Did you expect to get a more honest answer from me?"

Sephiroth scowled at her. "Few are foolish enough to lie to me." It was probably meant to be intimidating. It reminded her of the Arishok and plenty of others who underestimated just how foolish she could be.

"The degradation is gone and I'm doing all I can. What more do you want?" She said, sidestepping the issue.

"Why help at all?" He pressed, "You don't belong here, we are nothing to you." His brow was pulled down in confusion, almost reprimand.

"I don't belong anywhere. That doesn't mean I don't care." She didn't see that she should have to defend that. "I've lost enough people to the Blight." She said quietly.

The silence returned. He seemed to pull back at the mention of the Blight.

"What was it like?" He eventually asked, "When your homeland was struck?"

"Horrific." She said tonelessly. "It spread quickly. Livestock died, water supplies dried up, and crops started to fail."

"And the disease itself?"

She crossed her arms and spoke quickly. "Once infected, a quick death is the best you can hope for. It's pretty much the same as the degradation but faster. Uglier."

"The degradation that you are apparently capable of curing?" He asked with a lifted eyebrow.

"What do you want from me, Sephiroth?" she asked, giving a resigned sigh.

"Your story doesn't make sense." He said in frustration.

"Just like everything else on this blighted planet. I don't know why you think I'd have the answers."

"You know a lot more then you're letting on." He crossed his arms. It sounded like a complaint, as though by having poked a hole through her lies he had a right to the truth.

"I know that if we don't focus on Jenova your entire planet will die. It might not be  _my_  planet but I think we ought to do something about it just the same." She answered with false lightness.

"Don't change the subject." He said sternly.

"Oh for- You're very demanding you know that?" she said in exasperation.


	33. One Winged Angels

Vincent stirred on the bed. Hawke and Sephiroth saw him twitch and both stood a little straighter, previous conversation forgotten. They cautiously waited to see what would greet them. The transformation he’d undergone had left him completely drained. He probably wouldn’t be dangerous, but Hawke wasn’t about to trust that. 

She held her breathe when his eyes finally snapped open. They weren’t the bloody red irises of Vincent; instead they saw the feral yellow of the demon. His body remained the same but the unnatural way he moved, simply shifting atop the covers, told her that Vincent wasn’t home right now. Opposite her Sephiroth studied him intently. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, though it looked to be more out of habit then aggression.

“What are you?” Hawke asked when it became apparent the demon wasn’t going to immediately attack.

The strange yellow eyes fixed on her. She jutted out her chin in defiance.

“Chaos.” It finally rumbled.  

Her brow pulled down a little, her mind running through the storied list of all the spirits she’d ever encountered.

“I’ve never heard of a chaos demon before.” She said. Her eyes remained narrowed in suspicion.

Vincent’s head tilted to the side.

“There are some things that even you have not heard of, child of Thedas.” it said, showing its teeth in an alarming smile.

“A sassy abomination. Perfect. That’s just what this day needed.”  She muttered, scowling at the damned creature. 

“You say abomination as though that makes me unique.” Chaos said. Its eyes fixed on Sephiroth for a moment before sliding back to her. “You have problems much bigger than myself, alien.”

“So I shouldn’t worry about little old you, is that it?” she asked, refusing to be distracted from the demon before her.

On the other side of the room Sephiroth suddenly looked up, his gaze drawn to the window. Something flickered in his gaze though Hawke wasn’t looking to see it. Without a word he turned and made for the door.

“I have no interest in this world.” Chaos said, its distain clear. “Or any realm so filled with tainted mortals.”

The door closed behind the departing General.

“Then why are you here?” she asked.

“I wish only to slay the fool who bound me to this shambling mortal.” It muttered with a snarl. “You mortals can lose your own wars. The rest is not my problem.”  Its grasp over Vincent’s consciousness seemed to flicker, the Turk collapsing back against the headboard. The yellow receded from Vincent’s eyes and glowing red took its place.

“Chaos… doesn’t like you.” He said haltingly.

She didn’t tell him that she hated every demon, chaotic or otherwise.

Not long after Vincent fell back into an uneasy sleep. He must truly be exhausted, he seemed like a cautious person and not likely to casually let his guard down around strangers. Hawke watched warily, sifting through what the demon had said and resenting every last word.

The door creaked open. She turned to see Genesis stepping in with a grim expression. The darkness of the Inn’s corridor seemed to seep in around him. She’d almost forgotten how late it was.

“Is Reno still mostly in one piece?” She asked lightly, choosing for the moment not to think about the situation. Chaos and Jenova would still be there in a minute or two.

“Mostly.” His serious expression gave way to a dangerous smile for just a moment. Then he sank onto the nearest chair, looking dreadfully put upon. The cheap lightbulbs in the ceiling brackets revealed how tired he was, the stark shadows making him look almost ashen. She probably looked the same. When was the last time any of them had actually gotten some sleep? She’d caught a few hours on the trip there, but the rest? Probably not since Midgar. She doubted the resident archdemon was making it easy for anyone.  

She slid into the chair next to him. They had more pressing matters but a moment more couldn’t hurt. Jenova had waited this long, it wasn’t like she was going anywhere.

Since when was hotel furniture this comfortable?

“Where are the others?” she asked after a giant yawn.

“I’m pretty sure Angeal is lecturing Zack somewhere.” He said, looking at the ceiling.  “Attempted assassination. I didn’t think he had it in him.” He sounded as though he didn’t know whether to be impressed or scornful.

“Neither did I.” she said with a shake of her head and felt an ache in her muscles. Zack really hadn’t held back. It was as though it didn’t even occur to him to question his orders.  Not to mention that his SOLDIER enhancements were just as impressive as everyone had said.

Shaking himself a little, Genesis turned to look at Hawke. His hand prodded her side, sending a low level rejuvenating spell at where she had been wounded.

“Stop that, I’m fine.” She said, smiling weakly at his concern but pushing his hand away.

“Miraculously so.” He said, leaning back and giving her a suspicious look.

“Death likes chewing on me but apparently isn’t sold on going the whole way.” She said with a crooked grin. “Just my luck really.”

“Something to thank the Maker for, no doubt.”  He returned sardonically.

“How does it go? _Nothing shall forestall my return_?”

“Yes, but have a care, the next line is ‘ _The fates are cruel, there are no dreams, no honour remains_.”

“How morbid.” She rolled her eyes.  

“I believe ‘eloquent’ is the word you were looking for.” He said airily.

She scoffed in amusement.  Silence descended for a moment. The room itself seemed to take a quiet breath, as though clutching a moment of calm it didn’t believe would last. Cold winds rushed past outside the windows, whistling over the thin cracks in the frames. Outside the fog was being swept away in the last few hours of the night. 

The door opened again and Zack wandered in looking crestfallen. He halted when he saw them, as though only just realising the room was occupied. The quiet comfort evaporated.  

“I… um.” He mumbled, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. Hawke wasn’t particularly broken up over what had happened. On a scale from stubbed toe to Qunari Invasion, two people trying to kill her wasn’t really all that life changing. In fact it was really just a distraction, under the circumstances. Zack however didn’t see it that way and seemed to shrink back just at the sight of her. It didn’t help that Genesis was openly glaring.

“Are you in search of new orders, or are you here to complete your previous mission?” He asked scathingly. So he’d decided on being scornful after all.

“Hey, I don’t remember you ever hesitating to kill to anyone.” Zack returned.

“Don’t think you know me, Soldier.” Genesis snapped.

“What else am I supposed-” he remembered himself and stuttered to a halt. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.  He cleared his throat and then turned to Hawke.  “I’m sorry for what happened.  For… trying to kill you. I’ve never had anything against you. It’s just, I had orders. I didn’t expect…” He seemed to deflate with the admission. “I didn’t expect for them to be wrong.”

She couldn’t hold it against him. Authority had been a bad joke in her eyes ever since the battle of Ostagar, but Zack had truly believed in his heroes. In a way this was his Ostagar, the day he learnt that those who gave the orders were just as flawed and selfish as anyone else.  

“You’re not really the one to blame for that.” She said. “But I would appreciate it if you didn’t try to kill me again.”

“Heh, sure, yeah.” He said, giving her a weak smile. The light almost immediately dropped from his eyes and he looked away to the side.  “Hey Genesis,” he said, hesitating slightly. “Do you think that Angeal might, I dunno, quit Soldier?”

“I suppose he might. Why?” Genesis said, looking at him suspiciously. Where had this come from?

“It’s just, after telling me off, he said he was sorry for leading me to this and then… he said goodbye.” He scratched his head in worry and agitation. “It sounded like he meant it.”

“Goodbye?” Genesis repeated uneasily, suddenly sitting up a lot straighter.

“Do you know where he is now?” Hawke asked in a cautious tone, a dreadful suspicion sneaking up on her.

“He went for a walk. Towards the Reactor I think. Why?”

Genesis practically flew out of the room. The door had slammed open and ricocheted back again in the Soldier’s wake by the time Hawke tore after him, a very confused Zack bringing up the rear.

By the litter of black feathers directly outside the inn it was obvious Genesis hadn’t bothered with running but the skies were too dark to spot him.  The mists had rolled further down into the plains leaving the mountainside a black stretch of earth above an endless sea of white.  They were a quarter of the way up the winding mountain path by the time they found the Soldier.

 

* * *

 

Angeal was almost a third of the way up the mountain path by the time Genesis spotted him.  He was nearly impossible to find against the backdrop of the black scree and rocks but his sword glinted darkly on his back though and gave away his position. Genesis sped towards him and landed hard in front of the man, his wing sweeping low next to him.

Angeal gaped at the feathered limb before realising why Genesis was there.

“Don’t try to stop me-”

Genesis punched him.

Angeal stumbled back, clutching his jaw.

“You Bastard! You’d just throw your life away? Without even a word?!” Genesis cried, his tone bursting with fury and a blind panic he couldn’t voice.  Angeal just looked at him in shock. Genesis had never been mild tempered but he’d always preferred to throw fireballs then punches, considering such violence barbaric and petty. In this moment he was too angry to even gather his magic, terror making him lash out.  “Is this your idea of honour?” he asked, a mixture of disbelief and pleading leaking into his voice.

“What else am I supposed to do?” Angeal replied, recovering his composure and facing his friend. “We’re nothing but monsters.” His gaze flickered back to the black wing. Genesis unconsciously took a step back, pulling his wing back and banishing it to where nobody could see his shame. Angeal looked down, unwilling to meet his eyes.  

“It’s all we ever were, Genesis.” He said sadly.

“Hey, that’s not true!” A familiar voice called out. A second later Zack rounded the last rocky outcrop, Hawke skidding to a halt behind him.

“You’re not monster, you’re heroes.” Zack said, looking back and forth between them and wondering what was happening. He was confused but even he could tell that something very bad was going on.  

Angeal scoffed.

“We’re mindless killers, no better than the monsters we hunt. And I lead you down that same path.” Angeal said bitterly, “There is nothing heroic about us. At least killing Jenova would mean something.” His head dropped. “There is honour in that.”

“We are not monsters.” Genesis said quietly. “And I didn’t spend all that time finding a cure just for you to commit suicide.”

“What?” Zack said, stepping back as though he’d been struck.

“It’s not suicide, it’s saving the world!” Angeal said vehemently, his hesitance forgotten. “It’s redeeming any honour I might have had-”

“No, it’s giving up!” Genesis snapped back. “You want to be better? Then do better.”

“I can’t stop being what I am, Genesis.”

“You don’t know that!”

“I-” Angeal suddenly gasped looking pained. He stumbled back, grasping his shoulder and a look of confusion crossing his face. “What’s happening?” he gasped as he fell to his knees. Zack ran to him in concern. A second later there was a sickening crunch and the sound of something tearing.

A white wing stretched, tall and bloody, from Angeal’s back.

Zack recoiled, falling back in disgust. Genesis closed his eyes for a moment and let his head drop.

“What is that?” Zack asked, as there could be any question as to what the feather limb was. White feathers littered the ground and blood dripped down Angeal’s back. The wing trembled slightly, a smaller stunted wing beneath it twitching erratically, echoing the shaking of the broken Soldier who was looking up at it with revulsion.  The wing jerked to the side and around him as though trying to escape his sight but nothing he could do would make it go away.

Zack got back to his feet and instinctively took a step away from him. Angeal looked up at his student, his expression bitter despair. He swallowed harshly and looked away.

“Soldiers exist to kill monsters.” Angeal said weakly. He looked up at Genesis, self-loathing in his eyes. “At least let me take Jenova with me.”

Genesis took a breath. Angeal had a wing. At least it was white and pure, not the blackened monstrosity growing out of his own back. It didn’t matter though. Angeal was Angeal, the rest was immaterial. He would never stand by and let the man kill himself, no matter the cost.

“No.” Genesis said quietly. “I won’t let you.”

For a moment the two Soldiers stared each other down. Both were determined, but Genesis wouldn’t relinquish this.

“You’re not a monster.” Zack said quietly, interrupting the staring match. “Angels have wings and they aren’t monsters.”

“Demons have wings as well Zack.” Angeal said, sounding weary.

Hawke looked up suddenly, alarm in her eyes.

“Zack. Where’s Sephiroth?” She asked urgently. They all looked at her.

Realisation dawned on the teenager.

“He was heading towards the Reactor.” He said.

Genesis made a noise of frustration and clenched his teeth. Then he spun around and began marching up the path.

“Genesis!” Angeal called, stumbling to his feet after him. The wing threw his balance off and brought him to the ground again. “Someone still has to kill Jenova.” He said. “One of us has to do it. You can’t change that.”

“I refuse to believe that.” Genesis said coldly. “You’re in no state to climb a mountain, Angeal. We’ll meet you at the inn, after we’re done.”

“Those of you that survive.” Angeal said.

“Wait, hang on!” Zack called. “What’s in the Reactor? What’s Jenova?” he asked, clearly confused but demanding answers.

“We’ll tell you on the way.” Hawke said, looking grimly up at the mountain path.

 

* * *

 

Hawke, Genesis, and Zack stood before the Nibelheim Reactor.

It was a giant rusting building, with high walls and a horde of pipes bursting from its sides.  Skeletal metal girders anchored the reactor deep within the mountainside. The caustic stench of Mako permeated the air, seeping out of the well of raw mako it housed.  High winds whipped past and howled against the gapping maw of the entrance.

“And Sephiroth has gone to go kill this… demon thing?” Zack said.

“He’s gone to find her.” Hawke said. She offered no further elaboration. She’d spent the entire hike up the mountain berating herself for letting them wait so long. It shouldn’t have come to this. Angeal was probably still limping down the mountainside, Zack had snapped into soldier mode in the face of so much he didn’t understand. And Genesis…

Genesis had been almost completely silent since they left Angeal. His expression was hard and uncompromising. What he intended in regards to Jenova, she couldn’t say. They didn’t have a plan. There was no cunning loophole to thwart the archdemon. Just two improvised Grey Wardens both fighting the Calling.

She took the first step along the metal walkway to the entrance.  The two Soldiers followed her in silence. The door was open, leaking artificial lighting and a green glow out into the night.

“Angeal was wrong.” Zack said suddenly. The others turned back to look at him. He didn’t meet their eyes. “Soldier doesn’t mean monster. Even if they have wings and they make mistakes, they can still be heroes.”

Genesis said nothing. 

The door of the Reactor creaked open further, the wind abusing the rusted hinges. They were all bathed in the green glow from within.

“It’s what you’re prepared to give that makes you a hero Zack.” Hawke said, quiet and resigned.

They stepped into the Reactor.  


	34. The Calling

Hawke, Genesis, and Zack stepped into the bowels of the Nibelheim reactor.

Around them cold riveted walls disappeared into the darkness of a high ceiling. Weak artificial lights ran along steel girders, combining with the continuous glow of mako to give everything an unnatural green gleam.

They followed a rattling metal pathway through the reactor, the dull echo of their footsteps resounding in their wake. Every tiny little noise they made seemed wrong, as though they disturbed a reverent silence with their muddied boots and clanging armour. Whenever they paused the silence descended far stronger than before in a thick blanket that choked the very air. Hawke's skin crawled. Her staff and daggers felt small and trivial, even with no enemy to use them on.

The Veil felt very thin here. She didn't like it. It was so tattered she could almost see the air fluttering with the currents of the Fade. A lilting hum murmured just low enough that she couldn't quite hear it or even be sure whether or not it was her imagination.

They had yet to see any sign of Sephiroth.

Zack was looking uneasy. He kept glancing backwards and forwards with his hand straying to his sword as though expecting something to jump out at them at any moment. Genesis led the way silently and without expression. Hawke had no idea where in the monstrous structure they were but he obviously knew, somehow, and navigated the way without even glancing at the other paths.

It bothered her that the usual stench of darkspawn was missing. There was supposed to be an archdemon in here yet there wasn't the slightest sign of the Blight. If anything it was unnervingly clean and well ordered. She was reminded of the lab beneath the Shinra mansion.

The corridor opened up into a large chamber.

Genesis paused. A wall of mechanised pods stood before them. Each pod was easily big enough to hold a person and had a wealth of mako pipes feeding into it and a little glowing window set into the metallic case. They were perched on a tiered slope with a stairway running through the ascending levels to the top, where there was a platform and a doorway.

Standing on the platform was their missing Soldier.

From so far beneath him all they could see was his black coat, long silver hair, and the sickly green glint of his sword at his side. He was standing motionless before the closed door, starring up at the plague mounted above it. It had one word engraved into its bronze face: JENOVA.

Genesis took a halting step forward.

"Sephiroth?" Hawke called.

"It's sealed." They heard the General mutter at the door. The echoes of his voice carried the words down to them. He made no move so they went to him, walking up between the pods to the platform.

When they got to the top she noticed Sephiroth shaking his head slightly, as though disagreeing with something. In the distorted light he looked paler than usual.

"General?" Zack asked.

"She's here." Genesis said quietly. Sephiroth nodded slightly, the first sign he'd shown of actually acknowledging them.

"The demon thing?" the teenager asked, looking uncomfortably at the sealed door and the name scrawled above it. Then he looked back to the pods, which he had been starring at ever since they had entered the chamber. "Hey uh, what's with the containment tanks?" He asked.

"Experiments." Sephiroth said, finally tearing his gaze from the sign above the door. "Probably abandoned here by Hojo."

"Why? What are they?"

"Leave it along, Zack." Genesis said sourly.

Ignoring him, Zack stood by the closest one and leaned in to see through the little window, his hand resting on the metal casing.

The pod beeped, something from under his hand clicking. He pulled his hand back instantly, sending them an apologetic look just as the pod unsealed itself.

The door cracked open, steam and a putrid stench pouring out. Zack gagged as did the others when the smell reached them. Hawke coughed through it and for a moment she could have sworn the metal walls were the corrupted stone of the Deep Roads.

A clawed hand reached out from within the pod just as the last of the steam dispersed. Zack jumped back but Hawke instinctively lashed out with a strong electrical spell and a blood curling screech sputtered out with a wet gurgling. Left sprawled halfway out of the pod was a rotting and monstrous corpse.

"What is that?" Zack asked, coughing through the stench.

"That," she said, staring at the creature with a decade's worth of hatred "Is a Darkspawn." But it wasn't quite right. It was a little too… mutated? The legs were wrong and the head had fleshy tendrils shooting up from it that she'd never seen before. But the corrupted flesh was unmistakable, as was the red fleshy tissue covering the inside of the pod.

Genesis and Sephiroth looked at it with a mixture of revulsion and fascination. Zack just looked confused so she elaborated.

"Someone lost to the Blight."

"That was a  _human_?" He asked, looking back at the body in disgusted curiosity.

"Not anymore." She said grimly. There was nothing left to be done for those already lost. A swift blade was the only mercy left to them.

A deep moaning started, reverberating around the chamber. Four sets of weapons flashed out immediately, but there was no attack forthcoming. They looked around for the source when a harsh banging sounded and Hawke realised it was coming from inside one of the pods.

There was a creak as hinges that had been welded shut strained to open. Glass smashed on one of the pods below them and the moaning became a chorus of growls that reverberated through the chamber.

Pod doors tore open, the hinges torn right off, and darkspawn started climbing out. Long clawed limbs, thick chittanous hide and eyes that glowed from too much mako. They streamed out, screaming from the pods and tearing towards the humans. There must have been more than one in most of the pods because there were dozens of them swarming in a mad frenzy. The screams and bellows echoed deafeningly around the reactor, making it sound as though the enemy was everywhere.

"Well done, Zack." Genesis sneered, readying his sword and staring down the charging horde.

The monsters were unarmed but vicious, large and bulky hurlocks lashing out with claws and razor sharp fangs. Having marinated in mako for so long had made them far stronger than the darkspawn of Thedas.

Hawke slashed at the first charging hurlock with her dagger but it barely broke through its hide. Stepping back she drew her staff and turned to magic. She sincerely wished to gut whoever had the bright idea to chemically enhance darkspawn. Unlike any normal animals they didn't stagger when cut or pay any mind to their own wounds that bled freely, they just kept attacking until the last of their limbs were hacked off.

And yet, as mindless as they appeared they fought intelligently. They immediately cut off the stairway, blocking it with their dead and trapping the humans on the platform. Hawke hadn't seen them this organized since Ostagar and fought all the harder for it.

The fight was quick and brutal. She cast as quickly as she could, lightning forking out from her staff and electrocuting strings of enemies. Beside her Genesis was alternating between slicing through the hurlocks and setting them on fire. Zack had just his sword and a shield materia and he made good use of both.

Sephiroth's katana whistled through the air ruthlessly, massacring the monsters with brutal efficiency. The hurlocks had picked him out as the primary target, swarming around him and latching onto his limbs.

Black blood sprayed in great arcs with the swing of blades, drenching them all. It plastered her hair to her face and her hands were sticky with it. Just the sight of it made Hawke want to panic but you could only catch the Blight through an open wound and there wasn't time to explain and she was pretty sure everyone but herself was already infected. They fought on, the steps running with black.

There wasn't enough room to manoeuvre and the edge of the platform fell away to the black void of the Reactor's core. There was barely room on the platform for one soldier to fight properly, let alone three plus a staff wielding apostate. They couldn't carve through their opponents without fear of wounding each other. The darkspawn kept pressing against them from all sides.

Snarling in frustration, Genesis turned and blasted straight through the sealed doorway behind them. The hordes screamed and leapt after him.

Behind the door was something that had Hawke staggering in surprise. Even the darkspawn faltered at its sight.

Towering over them was a giant metal effigy, suspended at the top of a large mako pipe. It was a winged monstrosity in the shape of a woman that looked like some kind of pagan idol. It was set up in front of a containment tank, hiding whatever floated within the green liquid. Only the ends of long silver hair were visible from the sides of the figure.

Was this it? Was this the archdemon plaguing the Fade?

The darkspawn screamed anew in its presence and attacked in a ferocious frenzy.

Around her own fight Hawke caught sight of Genesis fighting off several hurlocks. His strikes were missing the steady precision they had just before opening the new chamber; it looked like he was trying to edge away from the effigy and back into the other room. A quick glance showed Sephiroth had also lost some of his effortless grace, his attacks ragged and unsteady all of a sudden.

"Is that it?" Zack panted, ducking beneath his foe's strike. "Is that the demon thing?" He was closest to the metal statue and fighting in its shadow.

"Behind it." Genesis called breathlessly, slicing the claws off a Hurlock and kicking it back. "She's controlling them." He glanced quickly at it before looking away, sweat beading on his forehead.

Zack decapitated his opponent then turned and charged up the pipe towards the tank.

"Wait, no, Zack don't-" Hawke shouted, Sephiroth yelling out for him to stop as well, reaching out to stop him but the boy was already out of his reach.

He smacked into the metallic statue with his full force.

The figure was slammed back, smashing through the tank and crushing whatever it held. Zack jumped back immediately to avoid the explosion of glass and mako. The flesh was so corroded from years of mako exposure that it disintegrated into sludge on impact, stringy bits of tissue splattered on the pipes around it. The broken effigy lay in the wreckage of the tank, discoloured mako sliding down the sides. There wasn't even a corpse left.

For a moment nobody moved, even the darkspawn stood still. Hawke watched the Hurlock closest to what had been Jenova, the one Sephiroth had been fighting, waiting for it to transform.

But it wasn't changing.

Maybe… maybe it really was that easy?

"Well, that wasn't so difficult." Zack said, turning back from where he stood on the pipe.

A hope she had denied for so long snuck in, that for once everything had just worked out and nobody had-

Sephiroth cried out in agony. He clutched his head and stumbled back. The darkspawn all turned to him but didn't attack; they were looking up at him as though-

As though awaiting orders.

With a wrenching gasp the General stopped shaking, stilling completely. The sounds of battle had been replaced by a deafening silence as everyone held their breath. Sephiroth stood at his full height, his blade bloody in his hand. He looked back at Hawke and the two Soldiers, his expression completely empty, except for a twisted mirth that hid behind his eyes.

"Sephiroth?" Genesis asked cautiously.

"You ignorant traitors." He said, his voice low and reverberating with a power that wasn't his.

Zack looked at him in shock, uncomprehending. Genesis understood though and he looked as though he'd been struck. Hawke felt a stab of bitter regret and then cast the most powerful shield she could.

The Darkspawn charged, swarming Hawke and Zack. A second later Sephiroth's katana swung at Genesis.

* * *

Genesis leapt out of range, too shocked to do anything but get out of the way. He and Sephiroth had fought endlessly but never seriously. Not like this. A vicious blow threw him out of Jenova's chamber and he caught himself again halfway down the stairs.

Sephiroth flew after him, the blade of Masamune swinging sharply and he parried just in time. He rolled to get out of the way and then parried again and again.

This was no friendly spar.

This couldn't be how it ended. He refused for it to end like this. Genesis had envied Sephiroth, resented him, and at the height of his degradation he'd even come close to hating him. Having to face him in real combat now made him realise that this was a friendship he'd always taken for granted.

The look in Sephiroth's eyes was cold and empty and his strikes held nothing back. It was as though he didn't even recognize him. Or he just didn't care.

Meeting his eyes over crossed blades he didn't recognize the man he was fighting. This wasn't the quiet but opinionated General he'd argued with since the day he'd met him. This was something else, something far worse than the monster the people of Wutai had spoken of in hushed tones during the war.

This was Jenova.

"Dammit Sephiroth, snap out of it!" he yelled, blocking a heavy swing. "Don't give in to her!" He stumbled back and barely cast a barrier in time. No matter how strong and fast his enhancements had made him, his old friend was much stronger and infinitely faster.

They leapt about the chamber, the fight growing more vicious. Genesis took hits and failed to return them.

He railed at Sephiroth for giving in so quickly, desperately ordered him to remember himself.

The General didn't falter, he didn't even blink.

Finally, pride forgotten, he begged him not to do this.

His cries of protest at his friend's betrayal wilted away in the face of such a merciless attack. He remembered with stark clarity that he'd never actually beaten the General in a one on one fight.

Getting desperate Genesis threw a flurry of fire balls at him. Most Sephiroth just dodged but it gave him a break from the unending assault. Sephiroth retaliated with energy strikes that sliced through huge mako pipes and the reactor walls all of which Genesis dodged. He threw a simple entropic spell at him, one of the few non materia based spells that he had managed to pick up.

The possessed man cried out in pain, staggering back for a moment and Genesis seized the opening. Abandoning his materia he instantly focused on the odd array of simple magical attacks Hawke had shown him. They were draining and required untold focus, but as Sephiroth had never faced such magic before he didn't know how to defend against it.

The General gritted his teeth though and charged again. He practically flew at him, sword whistling through the air at impossible speeds. Genesis strained under the weight of the assault, his blade shaking under such a blow. The strain was wearing him down and he didn't know long he could keep this up. Sephiroth knew his fighting style far too well and Hawke's magic was draining him too quickly.

Suddenly he felt his energy return, a rush of strength flooding his limbs. A rejuvenation spell? A quick glance at Hawke showed her blasting the darkspawn against the reactor walls. It didn't feel like her mana anyway.

The faintest smell of flowers wafted through the air.

Realisation dawned but his moment of distraction had cost him. Sephiroth bashed him in the gut with the hilt of his blade, sending him stumbling back. He charged after him, sword flashing.

The blow didn't fall though. Zack stood before the General, holding Masamune back with his trembling standard issue Soldier sword.

Before Sephiroth could strike down at the boy Genesis leapt up and slashed at him, giving Zack time to gather himself and join the fray. Sephiroth danced between the two of them, sword swinging lightning fast between strikes and parries.

Zack was actually very good, Genesis noted. Angeal had taught him well.

Sephiroth was pushed back but he didn't falter. He growled at the change in the fight and leapt away from them, holding back for just a moment.

In the split second before the two soldiers charged after him, a giant wing sprung out from his back. Where Genesis' wing was a sooty black that consumed light, this was a silken shiny black. And unlike Angeal's, there was no blood on it.

The General instantly took to the air, flying overhead and raining energy strikes down from above.

Two could play at that game and Genesis followed him, angling his own wing and continuing the fight in the air. But Zack was left on the ground and the fight was again one on one.

"Get down!" Hawke yelled suddenly. Genesis instantly folded his wing and dropped to the ground. A massive electrical storm formed in the air, catching Sephiroth in its grip and burning straight through his barriers. Bolts of lightning jumped between metals pipes and girders, striking furiously at him and forcing him to the ground.

Sephiroth landed, his wing scorched and twitching. He sneered at the mage standing at the top of the platform, covered in blood and surrounded by darkspawn corpses. Genesis and Zack stood between them.

The three Soldiers charged.

* * *

Hawke stood above the melee and cast spell after spell, lightning and fire shaking the very air. Genesis and Zack held their own but barely. She'd heard the rumours of the Great Silver General and assumed them all to be exaggerated. This was not a good time to be proven wrong.

She also understood why Jenova didn't bother turning into a dragon.

He didn't know how to fight her magic though which was the only saving grace, but the man could take one hell of a beating. He shook off a horror spell like it was nothing while most would have fallen to the ground weeping. Between fighting off Zack and Genesis he threw magic at her that even she couldn't recognize. She didn't know if it was some power Jenova gave or if he just had remarkable materia but it kept her on her toes and her barrier a constant.

She sent a massive gravity spell at him, slowing him down drastically. Genesis and Zack wrestled themselves the upper hand in the melee. Lightning strikes and gnawing ice gripped at Sephiroth's limbs, throw off his aim. Jenova was not going to leave this Reactor, not inside Sephiroth, or anyone else. She wouldn't let it. Hawke descended halfway down the stairs, placing the entire chamber within range. Her staff swung in her hands.

Healing and support runes started to spring up on the ground around them as they fought. The wounds she'd picked up against the darkspawn stopped bleeding, the gnawing ache on her chest from a vicious claw reduced to a mere sting. The Veil fluttered and she recognized whose mana was streaming out around them. Sephiroth snarled at the change, looking around for the source of the new magic.

Aerith was still safe in Midgar though. She was going to be having stern words with the Cetra afterwards, but for now she was just grateful. Genesis and Zack's wounds were patching up and their energy returning. This was not the end.

Then Sephiroth sliced right through Zack's guard.

The younger Soldier staggered back under the blow, his sword flying from his hand. Before Hawke could summon a shield spell or Genesis could intercept him the General stabbed Zack straight through the abdomen.

"No!" She cried out, the spell she'd been crafting sputtering out uselessly. Genesis slashed at Sephiroth but it was too late. Zack fell as the Masamune was torn out of him. He collapsed onto the cold metal, red blossoming through his armour.

With a yell of rage Hawke threw a huge kinetic blast, flinging Sephiroth back against the far wall like a ragdoll. From the corner of her eye she saw a healing rune light up around Zack. Twisting green symbols spun around him in a swirl that she barely recognised. Still focusing on the enemy she raised her arms and summoned up a massive cloud of entropy, corroding mists that stung and clawed and threatened to break him into nothing but dust. She added a whirling Abyss spell that spun around the General, pulling him in and holding him in the eye of the storm. Sephiroth screamed.

Finally the raging maelstrom finally settled. Hawke could barely hear over her own panting. In the centre of where she had summoned the spell, in a ruined crater of twisted metal, stood Sephiroth.

He was breathing harshly and torrents of his own blood dripped down his arms, running the length of his sword still gripped tightly in his left hand. His ragged breaths echoed around the chamber and the rage in his eyes could have burned through anything.

He stretched out his right hand. Hawke threw her strongest barrier around herself and Genesis.

She felt the Veil stutter, pulling oddly towards their enemy. Panic welled up suddenly within her at, what was he doing? How was-

With a great cry Sephiroth clenched his fist and drew his hand back as though tearing something.

The Veil ripped open.

Raw magic flooded in from nowhere and everywhere, the green swirling energy of the Fade supplanting the metal walls of the reactor. Just as the sudden and inexplicable assault of unformed magic became unbearable Hawke felt her physical body collapse.

The Fade swirled around her.

 


	35. Legend Shall Speak

Sephiroth couldn’t see.

All he was aware of was a voice that sang.

Sometimes he thought it was his own voice, deep and commanding, but then the tune would change and he couldn’t remember how such an obviously female, lilting tone could have sounded like his own.  Its chorus swirled through him, wrapping around his mind and seeping into his very being.

He had always heard it but the words had never been so clear. He had never understood the true beauty of it, it was so enchanting and the louder the song the more lovely it sounded.

On a soft wave of sighs it offered him vengeance against those who had wronged him. With the song cheering him on, he would bring damnation to the guilty and retribution to the world that had allowed it.

Vincent, weak and apologetic, the shell of a man who chose self-pity over his own son. His death would be swift.

Lucrecia, so blind and selfish she traded her own child for recognition and knowledge, and received neither.  Her very memory would be erased.

Hojo, so cruel and ambitious that even Sephiroth had lived in fear of him. No longer. Masamune was sharper than any scalpel. His death would be agonizingly slow.

All of humanity would be brought low before him, and he would judge them for their crimes.

The song grew stronger, its powerful notes echoing with the great justice he would bring.

The world would burn on his order. None would be found worthy and none would be spared.

This was what he wanted.

But then, like a crack in his mind, he thought of Angeal and Genesis. They were human and he cared about them. They were his friends, and they’d guarded his back while he guarded theirs. Since when did he want to hurt them, or even rule them? He didn’t want to rule anyone. This was not what he wanted!

Why couldn’t he see anything?

The voice wrapped tighter around him. The song filled every corner of his mind and inhabited every thought.

Humanity feared him, rejected him. Just as Genesis had always been jealous, it was because they knew he was superior and he deserved to be lifted above them all. Petty fools and traitors, they hated his strength.  

He heard the song of his Mother, his true Mother, and was greater for it. The song was his and he would embrace it.

Everything in this world would burn before him.

This was what he wanted.

* * *

 

Genesis opened his eyes to the endless green of the Fade and knew that he was sleeping.

He stood on the very edge of one of the floating islands, a sheer drop into magical nothingness before him. How had he gotten here? What on Gaia had happened?

He remembered that they had been fighting in the reactor. And then…

Then Hawke had unleashed the sort of firepower that would flatten armies. Sephiroth, or whatever had been controlling Sephiroth, had not only survived it but then proceeded to tear open the Veil itself.

He hadn’t thought such a thing was possible. Yet here he was, standing on the edge of a red cliff surrounded by carved white columns.

The purpose of such an attack eluded him. What could Jenova hope to gain here? Hawke had made frequent reference of the tricks demons play in Fade, who could say what an archdemon might be capable of?

They had been separated. Sephiroth could be anywhere, as could Hawke. He resolutely did not worry about that though because she knew the Fade and did not require looking after and the thought that Sephiroth might track them down and finish them off one by one wasn’t an idea he could afford to entertain. He needed to find her and together they could decide what was to be done next.

Hawke was the strongest mage. She would have a better understanding of what was happening and how to fix it. Aerith was probably around here as well.

He left the cliff and walked into the forest of pillars. He picked a direction and set a steady pace.

Then he looked up and he was surrounded by Banora White trees. But he’d been walking through pillars hadn’t he? They’d been everywhere, the crumbling Fade pillars, just a second ago. He narrowed his eyes at the scenery, trying to figure out what to make of it.

These weren’t just any Banora White trees, he knew this grove. He spun slowly, taking in the familiar sight.

It had been a very long time.

This was where he had decided to become a Soldier. Where he had read that short newspaper article on the rising star with the silver hair and had known what he wanted. This was where he had first known that he wanted to be a hero.

The closer he looked though, the more he saw it wasn’t quite right. The trees weren’t green enough. The leaves were wilting, the fruit rotting. The usually clean white trunks were off coloured, as though being eaten away by disease. 

So much for that. Perhaps it was fitting that this place, and what it meant to him, should crumble away. 

It was only then that he noticed the complete silence.

He hadn’t been able to sleep in days without being nearly deafened by Jenova’s cacophonous song. The silence wasn’t as comforting as he would have thought, instead it unnerved him.

_I didn’t think you’d miss me, child._

He drew his sword and swung around in the flash of an eye.

Nothing. He was still alone in the rotting grove. He’d never heard the voice so clearly before. It had only ever been an incomprehensible song whose notes gave vague impressions of things, but never distinct words. He recognized it instinctively though. It sent a shiver down his spine.

Where was she? Would she take a physical form? Did she even have a form? They’d be hard pressed to kill her if she didn’t.

_Always so aggressive. Why do you insist we are enemies?_

“Your degradation would have killed me.” He replied, keeping a vigilant eye on his surroundings. “So when I strike you down you may die with the knowledge that you started this.”

The voice almost seemed to hum in thought. Then it sighed around him again, soft and sickly sweet.

_I have only ever wanted the best for you, little one. I did not know that your form would reject my gift. You are different now; there is so much power I could lavish upon you._

That it had the nerve to speak of the slow and painful death she had sentenced him to so cavalierly, filled him with rage.

“I don’t want your gifts or your power.” He sneered.

_Oh?_

The lilting tone turned amused, he heard a smile made of dagger in her voice.

_Do you not want to be the Hero of the dawn? I can give you that. With me you would finally supersede your rival; and all the world would know you as the Hero you are._

“I…” He swallowed. For years he’d tried to be at least on par with Sephiroth and never once succeeded. To actually outdo him, to finally be the hero of his own story, it sounded like everything he’d ever dreamed of.

But he remembered meeting Sephiroth’s blade in the Reactor, where he had no choice but to defeat him. There he’d realised at long last that he’d didn’t want that fight. His pride was not worth the life of his friend.

“He isn’t my rival,” He said quietly, admitting it to himself more than Jenova. “He’s my friend. And I’m here to free him from your clutches. I don’t need your help to be the hero.”

_Ah but no one will ever know…_

The whisper sighed in his ear. He spun around again, certain something was behind him but once more he was faced with nothing.

_Even if you strike down the wicked monster, the glory will still belong to Sephiroth.  Another will be rewarded for your struggles and your victories, as always._

The words burrowed into his head, gnawing on his conviction and resurrecting old fears. The haunting thought of never being seen, no matter what he achieved, rose within him. He shook his head as though he could dislodge his own thoughts but to no avail.

But then he stilled and looked up with realisation.

“Hawke.”  He said decisively.  “Hawke will know.” She saw him and that was enough. He didn’t need the world.

_But what difference will that make, when you will be dead?_

“What-”

_Do not forget, child, you cannot kill me without killing yourself. If you win such a fight, you will never have her. But why should you have to choose?_

The voice was still soft; it’s sweetness a sticky poison that he couldn’t shake off. He didn’t want to hear it.  The words wrapped around him, coiling in a knot that drew ever tighter.

_I can give you both the woman you so desire, and the glory you have worked so hard for. Let me grant you your prize._

He wanted it. He wanted so much it felt like it was choking him, his will to turn her down crumbling with every moment.

But if he gave in… he’d be a fraud.

He wasn’t so far gone that he couldn’t see that. Heroism was built on sacrifice, not glory. To betray himself and the very world to that end would be nothing more than a lie.

Could he let the world burn? Could he really watch one of his brothers give their life so that he might keep his happy ending?

What would he give to save the world?

* * *

 

Hawke woke to the smell of baking bread. Oh she loved Orana’s cooking.

She opened her eyes, adjusting slowly to the light. It streamed over her, the sharp light of an early Kirkwall morning that flooded in from her opened stained glass windows.  Dust motes danced in the rays, fluttering wildly in the soft breeze. The sounds of High Town’s streets, busy with servants rushing about to prepare for the day, drifted up to her room. She sighed contentedly at the familiarity of it all.

She rolled onto her back and stretched luxuriously, a lazy smile splitting her face.  She looked sideways, taking in the familiar furniture of her bedroom. The old armoire, full to bursting with her armour and leathers. The fireplace that she always lit with magic and then pretended she hadn’t.

She didn’t know why but the sight made her smile all the more.

She rose to her feet, feeling light aches and pains from whatever she’d been up to yesterday. Probably killing stuff. Giant spiders maybe?

Her tattered old dressing gown was flung over the chest of drawers; she picked it up and draped it over her shoulders. It was so comfortable. She loved this dressing gown.

Feeling like she should be whistling a jaunty tune she flung open her bedroom door and strolled out uncaring that she was barely dressed.

“Good morning house!” She called in a sing-song voice, barely expecting anyone to hear her.

“Morning Hawke!” a chorus of yells called back from the lower level. A vibrant smile lit up her face at the sound of it. Leaning over the balcony she saw quite the crowd, all looking back up at her expectantly.

“And what are you nutcases all doing in my house?” she asked, grinning widely.

“Waiting for you, obviously.” said Fenris. Hawke just winked at the grumpy elf who wasn’t really all that grumpy and made her way down the stairs.

Aveline was standing right at the last step, her silver and orange armour as immaculately polished as always. Her arms were crossed in that ‘I’m not about to hit you but I am considering it’ posture she carried so well. Hawke found herself suppressing the most unusual desire to hug the woman.

“Hawke.” She said with a faint smile “I hope you’ve been behaving well.”

“I’ve been feeling very well.” She responded, giving her most winning smile.

“That’s not quite the same thing. For you at least they’re practically opposites.”

“Oh Aveline,” she sighed dramatically, “Why are you always so determined to think the worst of me?”

“Why are you always so determined to prove me right?” she replied, laughter leaking into her voice.

“I should hate to appear inconsistent.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s the least of your problems.” A male voice said from behind Aveline. Hawke recognized it, but it hadn’t been so deep last time she’d heard it. Aveline moved aside and it was all she could do to not gape like fish.

“Carver…” she said dumbly.

“Hey sister.” He replied.

She rushed forward, wrapping him up in a clinging hug. He took a step back at the unexpected assault, than slowly returned the hug, a cautious smile on his face.

After a moment she pulled back, suddenly looking embarrassed about her reaction.

“Uh, I mean… Hey.”  She said.

He chuckled softly. His face was older, more rugged, carrying more scars and more beard than she remembered. He wore the Grey Warden armour well and with pride. He was also smiling, and it was more sincere than she had ever seen him.

“He’s turned into quite the charmer, hasn’t he?” Isabella said, sidling up next to him from wherever she’d been hiding.  

“‘Bella!” Hawke exclaimed, smiling madly at the woman. She didn’t why she was suddenly so thrilled to see everyone; she was in a simply smashing mood this morning.

“Do I get a hug too?” The pirate asked with a saucy wink.

“Oh, I’d like a hug!” called Merrill. She hadn’t seen her at first, but there she was smiling by the writing desk.

“Alright, enough of that.” said Aveline, her tone fond but with the iron ring to it that had gotten Hawke marching all over the wounded coast many a time. “We are actually here for a reason. Get your armour on and we can get to work. They’re counting on us.”

“I… yes of course.” She said. Something a little jarring had just hit her. She hadn’t expected to go fighting with Aveline, or any of them. But that was ridiculous, this was what she did, what she loved. “I’ll just… be along in a minute.” Was there was something else? What was wrong?

“Well off you go then.” Aveline said at her obvious hesitation, the reprimanding look that Hawke knew so well making its way across her face. “Don’t you want to come fighting with us?”

“Of course I do, what else would I be doing?” she said, sounding unsure.

“Come on precious.” said Isabella, with a relaxed smile, “I’m shouting drinks afterwards.”

“What are you waiting for, lethallan?” asked Merrill. Her head was tilted and her eyes held the curious glint that had often convinced her to spend hours explaining things to the elven girl who had become like a sister. Her smile was so genuine and full of affection and Hawke smiled back.

Aveline said she ought to. She always claimed not to take orders from Aveline, but they all knew she did anyway. She was her oldest friend, and besides, Aveline was kind of terrifying. She couldn’t bear the look of disappointment that was slowly creeping into her eyes.

“I didn’t think you’d be so lazy sister.” said Carver, crossing his arms and looking so very dashing and competent in his Warden armour. “The darkspawn don’t kill themselves, you know.”

“Neither do the slavers.” Fenris said, also crossing his arms and giving her a look that very clearly asked ‘what are you waiting for?’ “The longer we wait the more damage they’ll do.”

“Hurry it up Hawke.” said Varric, holding his beloved crossbow over his shoulder. “I’ve got us a job lined up and it won’t wait forever. You aren’t going to believe what they found in Dark town.”

“Varric…” she said dumbly, a wide smile splitting her face. Varric was here. There was nothing wrong. It was all going to be alright, she had her trusty Dwarf by her side, they could face anything. This was just right.

“What did they find in Dark town?” She asked, an action-starved smile lighting her entire face.

A brief flash of something lit through her mind for an instant. She looked around at the assembled crowd, looking for a face that danced just out of memory.  

“Wait, Hang on,” she said, her brow furrowing in thought. “Isn’t there someone else? Where’s… uh, hmm.” There was definitely someone missing. She did a head count. Weren’t they down one?

“Got an imaginary friend you want to tell us about?” Varric asked, looking amused.

There was a light laugh from the top of the stairs. Hawke froze. Then she spun around and didn’t know why she was so shocked to see her Mother standing there because nothing could be more fitting. Leandra smiled down at her and slowly walked down the stairs, as stately and dignified as ever. Something about it was oddly surreal.

“Good morning dear.” She said, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

“Morning mother.” She responded, wondering if she was about to be reprimanded for wearing what was technically sleepwear in front of guests. She could practically feel everyone behind her rearranging themselves to be just a little more proper. It had always made her laugh to see Varric and even Isabella suddenly shifting to cover their chests a little more when Leandra was around.

No matter how irreverent they were, everyone was polite to her Mother. It was simply how it was done.

But something was off. In her mother’s presence the nagging in her head was somehow so much worse. A creeping feeling of uneasy grew and she wanted to take a step back. In the wake of old pressures to take care of everyone, she wanted to say it was nothing. But why did she feel so guilty, just looking at her?

Did she smell lilies?

No, of course not. Her mother didn’t like lilies. Where did that come from?

“Are you going out adventuring with your friends again?” Her Mother asked, smiling pleasantly at them all. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

“Of course.” Hawke said, but she couldn’t take her eyes from Leandra. Something was sticking in her mind and she needed to know what was so wrong. 

“This is what you want.” Leandra said, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Wait just a damn moment, nobody got to tell her what she wanted. Especially not her Mother.

She already knew what she wanted, she’d decided, hadn’t she?  She wanted…

Her memory flickered, and she staggered back, wrenching herself away from everyone. It suddenly felt so crowded, like she was hedged in. 

There was someone she was missing, she was certain of it. Someone very important. She sifted through her thoughts and suddenly noticing the gaping holes in her memory that should not have been there.

She focused on that someone, the missing someone who she knew was important. Using all her will power she stripped away whatever was trying to grip her thoughts. The vague image of red hair hovered in her mind’s eye.

Red hair and glowing blue eyes. But where did that fit in with all this?

She concentrated on that image, fixing the glowing blue in her mind. But then she saw the blue spread, a cracking glow that breaks the skin and claims the mind, power that will not be denied, power that demands  _Justice_...

She gasped and it all came flooding back.

“Anders.” She choked, struck by the memory and realisation.

The Chantry.

The Gallows.

The Lyrium Sword.

She looked at the people around her, her family, smiling so affectionately.

“You’re all dead” she whispered.

With that knowledge the image around her wavered, a cold wind typical of the Fade blew in and like dust it all collapsed. The old mansion, proud Kirkwall architecture, gave way to show swirling green.

She wasn’t lounging in a dressing gown in the safety of her home. She was in well-worn armour and she did not have a home.

Before her eyes her oldest, dearest friends faded away. Receding like shadows into the ground, their lively colours bleeding into inky blackness that simply melted away. Aveline, Fenris, Isabella, Merrill, then Carver. The bold Warden crest crumbled before her eyes.

Varric was the last to disappear, his roguish smile and charming wink heart rending as it evaporated into the fabric of the Fade.

Gone. They were all gone. She was alone.

She closed her eyes to stop the moisture in her eyes from falling.

“Of course you are alone.” A cruel voice said sweetly behind her.

Hawke spun around. Her Mother still stood, as grand and proper as always. But now she wasn’t the gentle woman she’d been in life, this was a twisted shadow with cruelty lighting its smile and triumph in its eyes. The Fade around her hummed with corrupted power, the air practically shaking with its strength.

“This is your Fate, little one.” She continued, “To watch those around you fall.”

“Shut up demon.” Hawke spat, “You are not her. You are not worthy of her face.”

The woman who was not Leandra laughed, a sharp and biting thing. With that biting laugh still echoing she evaporated into the air. Behind where she had been standing Hawke saw Genesis, standing on the edge of the clearing and watching her with pity and confusion in his eyes.

She felt hands on her shoulders and a whisper in her ear.

“And you will watch him fall to me, just as you watched all the others.”

Hawke lashed out, she spun and sliced through where the thing in her mother’s form had been standing. Her blade passed through nothing though, the vision disintegrating and black tendrils of corrupt magic slinking back into the ground.

Tainted magic washed over the area and she was left feeling hollow and broken.

* * *

 

Later she and Genesis were walking silently through endless broken pillars. Hawke was not in the mood for discussion and he respected that.  Despite looking curiously at her a couple of times, he wisely refrained from asking about the illusion she had been caught in. Had she not still been reeling from it she would have been very grateful.

Bloody demons.

They needed to focus on the matter at hand. Jenova was here and playing far more underhanded tricks then either had expected.

She tried to shake off the shadows that had been resurrected in her mind. She had thought she was stronger than this, or that she had at least come to terms with it. Having it all thrown in her face again was not something she had been prepared for.

She glanced briefly at Genesis beside her, his gait the mixture of confidence and caution that she knew so well now. He looked at her questioningly but she just shook her head and continued walking.

Sephiroth had fallen already. That left only one Soldier to make the sacrifice.

She wasn’t going to think about it. They needed to focus on situation at hand, they could fret later. Except it was later now, and she was running out of other things to think about. Dammit, why did it have to come down to this? Was it truly her fate to outlive everyone she cared about?

She dedicated a long and impressive string of curses to Jenova and all her kind.

As they walked the scenery changed around them. At first they had been surrounded by broken pillars, each of which supported nothing and broke off at different heights as though simply crumbling away. Though it had been hard to see they’d been covered in strange carvings. Foreign letters and indecipherable glyphs adorned them all in weathered low relief.  The further they walked, a black ichor had crept over the columns, seeping up out of the ground and distorting the glyphs. Eventually there was nothing left of the gleaming white stone and even the muddy red ground could barely be seen. The slick sinewy substance covered everything and held fast. It oozed corrupt magic.

It felt like something was watching them. The further they went the stronger the feeling became.

The sticky black strands snaking across the pillars hummed with a magic that had her skin crawling. Her staff was a steady comfort in her hand. Genesis held his sword and kept a narrowed eye on their surroundings.

Eventually he broke the silence.

“Do you know what happened, back in the Reactor? Or where we’re going?” he asked plainly.

“I have no idea. To both of those questions.” She replied.

“Well, aren’t you useful.” He said dryly.

She barely understood what had happened to send them here. The Archdemon in current possession of Sephiroth had torn the Veil a new one; that much she knew. Raw magic had come pouring in from everywhere as the Fade basically threw up on them. She’d felt her body collapse on the reactor floor and her mind had entered the Fade under the huge rush of mana. That she’d felt herself fall meant he hadn’t physically broken the Veil, just sort of… dented it for a moment. Probably.

She wasn’t sure that physically damaging the Veil was even possible but it sounded like the sort of madness that would seriously ruin a picnic, so technically this was not the worst damn thing that could have possibly happened.

So that was nice.

Except now they were all trapped in Jenova’s territory and completely vulnerable to whatever the Archdemon deigned to throw at them. Given the way Genesis was acting she suspected he had been confronted by her once already. He didn’t mention it and she didn’t ask.

The feeling that they were being watched grew stronger but they saw nothing.

“Hawke.” Genesis said sombrely after a time. “Is there any hope for Sephiroth?”

She didn’t answer for a moment. What could she say? Could there be any return for someone who had already given in to the calling?

“I don’t know.”  She replied, as honestly as she could. There might still be hope. Anders had recovered from Corypheus’ call, even if only to fall to another’s.

Around them the black ichor grew stronger. It started to string from pillar to pillar overhead and around them. Eventually it was so thick that it completely blocked out the molten green of the Fade and left them in strangely luminescent tunnels. The sticky fibres twitched and spread themselves out in dense webbing that grew before their very eyes.

Hawke kept looking over her shoulder and seeing the black tendrils flicking and rearranging themselves in their wake. The route seemed to change at random, the tunnels forking on occasion but always leading in the same direction.

“Hang on,” she suddenly halted. “Have you seen Aerith? We need to find her; she’s completely vulnerable here.”

“Vulnerable how? Doesn’t one simply wake up if killed in a dream?” he asked, stopping as well. “And aren’t Cetra all the more powerful in the Fade?”

“Yes, but she’s not a warrior, not even here. You or I would just wake up if killed but she’s a Dreamer, a Somniari. If she’s killed in the Fade she’ll be made Tranquil.” She ran an agitated hand through her hair, refusing to imagine the sweet and lively Aerith reduced to the emotionless husk of a Tranquil. She would give anything to stop that from happening. Genesis just looked at her in confusion so she elaborated.

“Her connection to the Fade would be cut; with it she’d lose the ability to feel any emotion. It’d break her mind, Genesis.”

He looked sickened that such a thing was possible.

“Then we won’t let that happen.” He said grimly. He looked back to their surroundings “Are we headed in the right direction? Is there any way to know?”

She shrugged.

As though there was any alternative route. The black webbing had cut off their return. There was only one path left to them, into the heart of the corruption.

This had gone on long enough. It was time to slay the monster. 


	36. Sacrifice at World's End

Aerith didn't know what was happening. Everything had suddenly changed and now it was wrong.

She'd been helping Hawke, Genesis, and Zack from inside the Fade. The older mage might have told her not to leave Midgar, but she didn't say anything about dreaming. Being a Cetra was definitely useful, now that she knew how to make the most of it.

It was a good thing too, if not for her timely intervention Zack probably would have bled to death. Aerith tried not to dwell on it, but she'd felt the Veil fluttering when he'd been stabbed and sudden panic had struck her. She'd cast the strongest healing spell she could in such an agitated state. It was hard to tell from the Fade but she was pretty sure it had worked. She might not have been that experienced at this Fade shaping business but it was amazing how quickly she was picking it up.

She didn't know what had happened after that though. The Fade had jerked suddenly and then everything changed. Now it was quiet.

The planet had been whispering and muttering in agitation for so long, it had grown to nearly deafening. But here it was different. The rush of the Fade seemed calmer, almost muted. She sighed quietly. A little peace was nice from time to time.

There was a vague presence on the air though and it sent a shiver up her spine.

She found herself in a pretty little wood, unsure of how she got there. Sunlight streamed down between the leaves and endless wild flowers sprung up around the trunks. A sweet cool breeze sighed past.

It was beauty like she'd never seen and it felt so wrong. Aerith knew intrinsically how the Fade ought to feel, how the life stream would softly swirl through her mind in little whirlpools, fluid eddies pooling in her hands ready to be shaped. This part of the Fade however carried the scent of something else. Someone had already shaped it.

She turned slowly, looking at the endless trees and wondering how to escape. This was wrong, tainted somehow, despite how pretty it was and she didn't like it.

She stuck out her hand and sent out a single shock wave. Her magic swept through her surroundings, a single pulse that seemed to shake the world around her. Now everything looked just a little more wrong, like the dimensions were ever so slightly off or the shadows weren't where they should have been.

She slammed her staff into the ground, sending out a much bigger shock wave. The fabric of the fade seemed to bend under the pressure for a moment before righting itself. In the wake of her spell the woods melted away. Like weak illusions her surroundings fell apart.

What was left had Aerith clutching her staff.

The soft colours of nature were all gone. Sticky black webbing was the only thing remaining. She was in a tunnel made of the crawling black substance, the webbing everywhere, both overhead and underfoot and leading in every direction.

"Clever little Cetra." A soft voice said behind her.

She spun around immediately, holding her staff defensively.

There was no one there. For a moment she was confused, she knew she hadn't imagined it. Then the twitching webbing convulsed in a spot before her. She leapt back with a cry. The black substance reached up, a fluid tentacle made of a thousand tiny fibres rising from the floor. It grew until it towered over her. Then it slowly shifted, taking the shape of a woman, long fluttering strands of webbing swaying behind her like hair. Empty eyes fixed on the young Cetra.

"Jenova." Aerith whispered, taking another step back. All the tragic tales of the Cetra's fall before the Archdemon sprung to life in her mind. The whispered warnings the planet had given her suddenly made a lot more sense.

"You don't need to be afraid." The creature made of darkness said, walking in a slow circle around her, floating through the ichor that covered the ground. "I'm not here to hurt you; I'm here to set you free." Its voice was hollow and reeked of magic. Aerith felt paralysed.

"Free from what?" she asked, timid curiosity getting the better of her.

"From the chains you were born with." It said, sounding so very sympathetic. "You didn't ask to be shackled to the cries of a planet."

Vague indignation filled Aerith and she crossed her arms.

"I'm not shackled."

"Oh?" The creature said, turning a pinning gaze on her. "You live in constant hiding, fearing the day the  _normal_  people discover you. You are all alone, trembling under the weight of an entire planet." It stopped in front of her, its voice turning wistful. "I know how hard that life is. Can you really say you aren't tired of it?"

Aerith took a deep breath and then another step back. She felt hedged in and the words were too tempting. Hawke had warned her about this, about demons offering the world. She knew she needed to resist, but she hadn't expected it to be so hard. There was no comforting surge from the planet, just her own mind and Jenova's echoing words.

"This is who I am." She said, taking deep breaths and forcing herself to remember why she was here. Jenova was the enemy. "It doesn't matter if I'm tired."

"Not so." It replied, edging closer. "I can set you free. I can make you normal."

"You can?" She asked before she could stop herself.

"I will make you just like everybody else." It stretched out a hand.

"No!" Aerith cried, leaping back and brandishing her staff. "Get away from me!"

"My offer was an honest one." It replied, pulling back its hand and looking almost wounded at her reaction.

"I don't want to be normal." She said vehemently. It wasn't until she heard the words aloud that she realised it was actually true. She held onto that. "I love being like this, it might be hard… but it's so beautiful. And there's nothing wrong with being one of a kind. Hawke taught me that much."

"You are the last, Cetra. You will always be alone." Its voice turned foreboding and it stalked closer again. "Will you really throw away your only chance to change that?"

"I'm not alone." She said weakly. She had friends, people who understood. They were enough. They had to be enough. And besides, it wasn't about her. "I can help people." Her voice became stronger, powered by her conviction. "I can heal things, I can do so much, and I'm only just starting! I wouldn't give that up for the world."

Without warning the figure collapsed into itself. The tendrils of sticky ichor receded into the webbing that covered the ground. Aerith watched mutely in confusion. She hadn't expected it to give up so easily.

"Then you will lose the world as well." The same voice said from behind her. She spun and saw the creature even taller than before, towering over her but now one of its limbs was hard and sharpened and lifted up to stab her.

Aerith staggered back and tried to throw up a shield spell.

Before the blow descended the creature cried out in pain. The tendrils it was made from writhed and shrieked, pulling away from a blade sticking out through its stomach.

The figure tore apart, its twitching bits melting into the floor again. All that remained was Hawke, standing behind where the creature had been, with murder in her eyes and her staff in her hand.

She pulled back her weapon, flicking ichor off its blade. Genesis stood behind her, his sword drawn but still clean.

"You," Hawke said, looking at Aerith with a grin that was not particularly friendly "Are meant to be in Midgar."

"I am in Midgar." She said. "Technically." She amended, seeing the raised eyebrow of scepticism she received.

"You may argue details later." Genesis said, "We are still in enemy territory. As is Sephiroth." He looked down the far tunnel, a troubled look in his eyes.

"Come on." Hawke said, putting her staff on her back. "We're going to need all the help we can get."

* * *

Genesis led the way down the tunnel. The walls didn't change in the slightest, but he knew they were drawing near. The ichor seemed to hum and almost mutter as they passed and it grew ever louder. Jenova, the driving force of the Blight, was very close.

The tunnel took a turn and they found themselves in a large circular chamber. It looked a little like an arena, with the walls of black webbing slopping away before coming in overhead.

In the centre was Sephiroth.

Genesis faltered at the sight. He heard Hawke give a startled cry and Aerith gasp beside him.

Sephiroth was completely wrapped up in the webbing and hanging several feet in the air. He was unconscious and suspended with his arms at his sides between two pillars, standing alone in the centre of the arena. The twitching tendrils had him almost entirely encased, like little branching vines wrapping him into a cocoon. It was coiled around him, all the way up to his chest, the little tendrils reaching up even further to cover him completely.

He appeared to be sleeping but not peacefully. In the shocked silence as they took in the sight he started to struggle, thrashing and trying to tug his arms free but the elastic webbing would not relinquish him. He swiftly tired, his strength giving way far sooner than it should. As his movements slowed and he sagged wearily the tendrils spread higher over him, stringy fibres reaching all the way up to his neck.

Snapping out of the trance the sight had thrown on him, Genesis leapt up with his sword. A second before he brought it down on the thick black tentacle holding up the General an ice spell struck it, making the entire limb brittle. It shattered under his sword. As he landed he saw Hawke lowering her staff.

The General fell to the ground and awoke on impact. His eyes opened to reveal the cold green that looked at them with nothing but distain.

Moving slowly, Sephiroth rose to his feet, the ichor shifting to allow him movement but still covered his limbs completely. It murmured around him, anchoring him to the ground and coating him in corrupt magic. He drew his sword from where it rested on his back.

There was a brief moment of silence before he leapt forward, sword whistling through the air. Genesis met his blade, staring down his opponent. This fight was different from the last. Here they were in the Fade, magic flowed all the more freely putting him at far less of a disadvantage.

Just as Sephiroth lunged at him, half a dozen black tentacles sprung up from the ground behind them and whipped towards Hawke and Aerith. Genesis barely caught sight of them between his own fight, long fluid limbs whipping towards the two women.

The inky limbs reached across from the roof, the walls and the floor, shifting constantly as they tried to wrap around them and drag them down. Hawke brandished her blades and threw all manner of magic at them. From the way she moved Genesis could see she was trying to draw attention away from Aerith. A powerful shield sprung around the girl and Hawke added her own barriers to it.

The Cetra stood perfectly still, holding her staff out before her and muttering something with her eyes closed. Glowing little glyphs lit up around her as she built up an intricate spell. What she might be casting he had no idea. The magic swirling around her was far beyond his understanding.

He had no time to be distracted though and focused back on his own fight.

Sephiroth swung his blade, shadows moving with him and the humming ichor striking in unison.

For once Genesis kept up, his grasp of magic in the Fade finally turning the tables and it infuriated him. This was a fight he not only didn't want to fight but he didn't even want to win. He couldn't decide to not fight though and Sephiroth held nothing back. Hating himself for it, he returned every blow. Their blades clashed again and again in a lightning fast exchange.

Losing his patience Genesis unleashed a fireball at point blank range. Sephiroth's shield wasn't quick enough and it burnt straight through the ichor over his chest and shoulder.

Rather than retaliating, Sephiroth stumbled back, confusion in his eyes.

"Genesis?" he said. He looked in bafflement and at the blood on the swords they held and the burn marks on his own chest. Less than a second later the webbing surged up over his body again, reclaiming its lost territory and the recognition faded from his eyes. He brandished his sword and attacked again.

Realisation hit Genesis.

"Hawke!" He called out, "Ice!"

Without halting her own fight she sent a frost spell hurtling towards them. Genesis sliced through Sephiroth's shield a second before it hit and leapt out of the way. The ice struck with its full force, freezing the ichor and holding him fast for a moment.

Before Sephiroth could shake it off Genesis slammed the hilt of his sword into him. The brittle webbing shattered and fell off in large frozen chunks.

Recognition returned to Sephiroth's eyes.

"What is this?" He said, looking at the cracking black stretching over his arms.

Genesis prepared his own ice spell, it was weaker but it would get the job done. A tentacle snapped forward though, wrapping around his arm and dragging him back. He cried out and tried to slice through it but the angle was wrong. He twisted around to fight it off, growling in frustration because Sephiroth would be being overrun again behind him.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Hawke leap in to take his place. The tentacles had all turned to focus on him and she took the chance to descend upon the General.

A wealth of gravity spells sprung up, slowing Sephiroth enough that she could keep up with him and he couldn't shield himself from her magic.

Genesis sliced through the last of the tentacles. He turned in time to see Hawke stretch out a hand, magic he didn't recognise sweeping through the room.

The nearest pillar of the two Sephiroth had been suspended from was caught up in her magical grip. With a grunt of exertion she wrenched it up out of the ground, and swung it around in a great arc. Sephiroth moved to leap out of the way but her gravity spell held him down and it slammed straight into him. The momentum of the giant stone column sent him flying back across the arena.

The pillar landed on top of him. There was a moment of silence as the fighting halted. There was only the sound of Aerith's quiet chanting behind them.

A second later the pillar, beneath which Sephiroth was presumably crushed, glowed with magic that wasn't Hawke's. There was a sharp whine and then it exploded into a countless tiny pieces. Sephiroth emerged from beneath it, fuming with rage and with clumps of black webbing still sticking to him.

Hawke grinned sharply.

She stabbed her staff into the ground. A whirlwind rose out of the ground around him, high speed winds picking up the shards of the broken pillar. Innumerable razor sharp splinters of stone hurtled through the air, tearing at him and shredding the hissing tendrils. He cried out in agony, but she didn't relent. The storm grew stronger and more focused, the stubborn webbing cracking and falling away. Rogue tentacles sprung up from the ground and reached in to defend the corrupted Soldier.

Genesis chased them with a quick succession of fire spells; burning through them all before they could make a difference.

The storm eventually subsided, the deafening roar of its power still ringing in his ears. Sephiroth stood alone, finally free of the webbing and looking utterly drained. The tendrils twitched around him in agitation.

There was a faint shriek on the edge of hearing, and then it burst out deafeningly loud, a wordless cry of outrage. The walls shook, distorting with fury.

But then with a shout Aerith finished casting. An enormous rune sprung up over the entire area of the fight and a second later a huge torrent of water exploded up out of the ground.

It was infinitely more powerful than the little fountain in the church. The pressure was punishing and its potency ruthless.

The black ichor shrieked and twisted madly, the tendrils melting away as though being eaten by acid. The very ground shook and a high pitched scream pierced the air. Tentacles rose up only to writhe and wither pitifully, their strength sapped by the waters.

The blackness drew back; the green sky of the Fade breaking through the disintegrating ceiling. The melting tendrils left nothing but sticky clumps of growth sliding down the pillars and falling limp to the ground.

In the centre of it all was Sephiroth. He was on his knees and panting, torrents of the ichor sloughing off him. He looked at it in revulsion before looking up at them; his green eyes clearer than they had been since before they left Midgar.

In that moment the Fade lost its grip. Their surroundings gave way to darkness as the dreamscape fled and consciousness returned. Soon after they were all sitting on the floor of the Reactor.

* * *

Sephiroth woke with a gasp. His eyes snapped open, only to slam shut again at the white light flooding the reactor. His head was pounding with the worst headache of his life.

He hesitantly cracked open his eyes again and sat up slowly so as to stop his head from spinning. He was completely drenched for some reason. The room was dripping with water that reeked of magic. It fizzed softly as it mixed with darkspawn blood.

The faint light of dawn was streaming into the chamber, a cool breeze accompanying it. That caught his attention more than anything else, his eyes following the beams of light back to the holes in the reactor wall.

He stared at the large gashes carved all around him, great gaping wounds exposing the reactor core to the outside world. His mind sluggishly tried to understand the significance of it all.

A second later it struck him that he was the one who had put them there. Through the sharp ache in his temples he remembered attacking Genesis, the memories vague and indistinct, but he knew with growing horror that he had tried to kill his friend.

His head snapped around, looking for Genesis.

The red head was slowly getting to his feet. He didn't seem injured. Instead he looked around marvelling at the ruined reactor, now dripping with whatever that girl in the Fade had cast, before his eyes settled on Sephiroth.

Genesis immediately straightened, looking at him wearily. His hand moved to the hilt of his sword but he didn't draw it.

"Sephiroth?" He called, studying him intently from the other side of the chamber. "Are you… yourself again?"

The doubtful hope in his voice struck Sephiroth as something he'd never heard from Genesis before. It almost sounded like pleading.

"I… yes." He said, searching through his own mind for what had happened and what remained. "She is gone." Relief filled his voice. His mind was finally free, more than it had ever been in his life and he felt so much lighter for it. Then he remembered what had happened to buy that freedom.

"Are you hurt?" he demanded, getting to his feet and looking at Genesis critically. A flood of regret and disgust at his own weakness filled him, "Did I injury you? Genesis I didn't-"

"Is he back?" Hawke called, making her way to the bottom of the stairs. She stopped behind Genesis, holding her staff in a defensive position and eyeing him suspiciously. She was drenched in darkspawn blood, some of which was probably her own. Red was mixed in liberally with the black, the magical water doing a poor job of washing it off.

"Yes. He's himself again." Genesis said with a sigh of relief. His hand dropped from his sword.

"Thank the Maker." Hawke said, letting her shoulders drop and her staff hang limply at her side. She was looking a little pale and weak, exhaustion had probably worn her down. She turned to go investigate Zack, who was sitting up and blinking in confusion.

"Genesis," Sephiroth said earnestly, before he wandered off to attend the younger soldier. "I am sorry." The words were awkward and inadequate, he knew, but wholly sincere.

Genesis watched him in contemplation for a moment. He looked exhausted, the last of his adrenaline completely worn off.

"It wasn't you." He said, as though it were that simple. "That was Jenova. Either of us could have fallen to her, you just happened to be standing the closest." He rubbed his shoulder where an old wound had been, almost a year ago now. He shook his head idly, returning from whatever thoughts had seized him, a mocking smile on his lips. "If you should feel the need to repay me however for randomly turning on us in the middle of a fight, don't let me stop you."

"You don't seem too offended." Sephiroth said, crossing his arms.

A moment of sincerity flickered through Genesis' eyes.

"I thought I would be forced to kill you." He said quietly. "But I'm not the only one you need to apologise to." He looked sidelong at Zack, who was letting Hawke poke him experimentally where a fatal stab wound should have been. Instead there was barely a scar.

"Zack-" Sephiroth started.

The boy looked up in panic for a moment before giving a huge sigh of relief.

"Oh, thank goodness, you're not crazy anymore." He collapsed back onto the reactor floor, apparently done with them all for the day. Then he sat straight back up again, looking nervously at the nearest darkspawn corpse. "So, is that it?" Zack said. "It's done?"

"Not quite." Hawke said. She looked around at all the corpses. "Aha." She narrowed her eyes, focusing on the one closest to Sephiroth.

It was still twitching. The others were all completely still.

Sephiroth instinctively backed away from it, the memory of a vicelike grip over his thoughts still fresh in his mind.

It twitched further and even groaned a bit. It looked like it might have been trying to get up or maybe even transform but too much of Jenova's strength had been sapped and it collapsed back down. Sephiroth glared at it, practically daring it to attack again.

Hawke went and stood over it, watching it intently. A trail of watery blood was left in her wake. She moved to bend down and examine the creature but halfway down she hissed in pain and stood back up again.

The creature jerked, its limbs blurring oddly for a moment. It really was trying to transform, probably into a dragon given what Hawke had said. Jenova was undoubtedly trying to do anything to rescue her tattered plans, but it just didn't have enough strength left.

"So now what?" Zack asked.

"Now someone kills it." Genesis said. "We already know it can't be you Zackary."

"It should be me." Sephiroth said quietly.

"No. It should not." Genesis said, ice in his tone.

"Would you prefer to do it?" Sephiroth returned.

Genesis glared before grudgingly answering.

"No, I wouldn't."

Zack just looked confused.

"Somebody has to." Hawke said quietly, turning back to watch the two of them. "There aren't any other options." She didn't offer an opinion as to who should take the fall, but the way she looked anxiously at Genesis said more than enough. The way Genesis avoided her eye was equally telling.

"Why does it even matter who kills it?" Zack asked.

There was a damning silence. Genesis and Sephiroth watched each other, a mute debate raging silently between them.

"The closest person with the Blight goes with it." Hawke said finally. Zack just looked more confused so she elaborated. "Whoever kills it dies."

"What?! Why? Why even kill it then, can't we just seal it away somewhere?"

"It would still call out to anyone corrupted." She said, shaking her head.

"There has to be something-"

In their distraction the last darkspawn staggered to its feet.

Sephiroth's sword was immediately in his hand but the snarling creature lunged for Hawke.

In the blink of an eye she had drawn her dagger and swung at it. Just as her blade flashed out a fireball streaked past them both, incinerating the corpse.

Sephiroth staggered to a halt, and then spun back around to stare at the culprit.

Genesis stood, hand outstretched, the soft glow of materia fading away.

"No…" Hawke whispered.

Genesis' hand fell. Sephiroth stepped towards him, as though there was anything he could do, as though it wasn't already too late. He felt like he was going to be sick.

"I suppose this is goodbye." Genesis said quietly.

There was a blinding flash of light.

* * *

Hawke's eyes met Genesis'.

Her dagger hung uselessly in her hand, only the thinnest streak of blood on the edge.

"Genesis…" she said, her voice broken and her eyes filling with tears. He looked at her sadly, regret in his eyes.

"I suppose this is goodbye." He said, giving her a tragic smile.

It felt like she'd just been stabbed.

Sephiroth and Zack both looked on helplessly, the younger soldier crying out in protest and Sephiroth rendered mute.

Hawke felt her tears streak down her face. Genesis still stood, eyes only for her as he awaited his fate.

There was a flash of light.

Her chest burned.

She looked down at the darkspawn blood covering her front. Some of it was her own. The cut on her abdomen was filled with both.

Oh.

Comprehension struck her. She looked back up at Genesis and the others; realising she was standing between them all and Jenova's last vessel.

The light condensed and focused, growing so much more powerful. It stood like a towering pillar of fire only it wasn't surrounding Genesis, it was around her.

She barely had time to register her own panic or the look of shock on Genesis' face before her vision failed. Blinding light flared behind her eyes, her mind reeling with a stab of agony she'd never felt before. She heard someone call her name just as the world disappeared into a maelstrom of bloody red that filled her mind. A wave of regret was the last thing she knew before pain flooded her every nerve ending, impossible fire consuming her.

Someone was screaming.

Hawke fell.


	37. All that Remains

There was a brilliant rush of light that engulfed Hawke. Genesis was struck back in horror as he realised what it meant. He had been prepared to give his own life to stop Jenova but he had not been prepared for Hawke to make that sacrifice.

He heard her cry out in agony and he sprinted forward, desperate to do something, anything  _because this was not how it ended, he could not lose her, not now, not like this._

He was about to hurtle through the pillar of light when it exploded out and the shock wave threw him back.

The moment it faded Hawke collapsed like a ragdoll.

He lunged forward again, barely catching her before she hit the ground.

She was limp and unmoving in his arms. Her skin was leeched of its natural colour, sickly grey spreading across her. Her eyes were empty, the brilliant spark they always held gone.

"No, no…" he whispered, refusing to accept what he saw. This couldn't be it.  _He wouldn't let this be it._

Barely thinking he cast a healing spell, his full-cure materia pulsing out spell after spell in his desperation. The wounds he could see, claw marks and fresh burns, were sticky with blood both black and red. Everything he knew about Archdemons and corrupted souls was suddenly flying through his mind, far more cruel and monstrous then it had ever been before.

The healing magic seeped into her and faded away.

She wasn't breathing.

"A Phoenix down," he called desperately back to the two other soldiers, "I need a phoenix down!"

His voice shook them out of their uncomprehending stupor and Zack fumbled through a pouch on his belt.

A green rune appeared around her, the aura of Aerith's magic reaching out of the Fade. It sunk into the ground without effect. Sephiroth added the power of his own healing materia. Another of Aerith's glyphs sprung up again, a quick succession of healing spells being cast and fading away in turn, no more to show for it than Genesis' magic.

Zack handed him the small vial of a phoenix down.

He uncorked it and held her up, carefully pouring the precious golden liquid down her throat.

He watched carefully for a sign, anything, just the smallest signal that she wasn't already out of his reach.

Her limp hand fell from his grasp.

He couldn't move. He couldn't even speak; the realisation of what he had lost choking him.

One last healing spell pulsed out from his materia, knowing it wouldn't work but too stubborn to not try.

"Genesis," Sephiroth said. He sounded sad and hesitant; Genesis barely heard him. He put a hand on his shoulder. "It's too late."

"No." He said, angry and indignant. "No…" he whispered again, broken as his denial gave way.

He cradled her in his arms and wept.

Hawke's body began to glow, the faint shine of a corpse starting to disappear into the life stream. Genesis held her closer, agony in his heart. He knew it would make no difference. Green wisps rose up, dancing slowly through the air on the way to join the Fade. He'd seen it many times, but never like this. It had never been someone he would have gladly swapped places with. She started to become translucent as she faded into the green wisps. He knew that a piece of his heart went with her.

A final healing glyph sprung up from the Fade. It was bigger and more powerful than the others, a circle of intricate runes surrounding them _. Too late, far too late_. Tears running down his face, Genesis looked almost resentfully at Aerith's efforts, wishing it could have been enough. It had saved his life, why couldn't it have saved hers?

The green wisps whirled up on their journey, beginning to pass through the Veil. His tear filled eyes watched them float away.

They pulsed once and then whirled again. The wisps weren't fading as they should have been, as though the Fade didn't want her.

Aerith's glyph radiated with power.

The glowing pieces of magic hovered, almost indecisively. Genesis watched, confused and hoping against hope at what he was seeing.

In a surreal moment the wisps descended again, seeping back into the body from which they'd risen. The glow subsided.

There was silence as he waited with baited breath for what would come next.

Hawke gasped.

Colour flooded back into her. Her eyes flickered open and she gave a great wracking breath, her body convulsing up with effort. Genesis flung himself forward, holding her in a crushing embrace.

"You're alive." He gasped into her hair, choking with relief he couldn't contain and tears streaming freely from his eyes. He closed his eyes, relishing the warmth flooding back into her. "Oh, Hawke, my precious Hawke."

"Genesis." She whispered weakly, her hand moving to the nape of his neck before falling to the ground. She looked up at him in exhaustion, her head resting against his shoulder. She looked so confused.

"I think I just died."

* * *

Hawke awoke in the room at the Nibelheim inn.

Her limbs were heavy and sluggish and her eyes didn't want to open. A soothing sound was happening somewhere but she didn't have the presence of mind to identify it just yet.

She vaguely remembered waking up and then passed out again several times since the madness in the Reactor, once to find Genesis carrying her down a mountain side, the next time alone at the inn.

As awareness returned to her she realised the soothing noise was someone quietly reciting  _Loveless._  Then she smiled because she knew exactly who that someone was and even that baffling poem was music to her ears when she'd thought to never hear his voice again.

One of her eyes cracked open a little and she twisted her head just enough to see him.

Genesis was sitting on a chair next to her bed with his legs crossed. He wore neither his coat nor gloves and looked truly unguarded. He was holding a book in his hands but his eyes were on her. He smiled softly when he saw she was awake.

"Morning." She said, her voice more of a quiet croak.

"Afternoon, actually." He said, moving to sit on the edge of the bed and offering her a drink of water. She sat up as much as she could, her limbs screaming out in protest. She was covered in bandages. Dying was hard work apparently.

"How long was I out?" she asked once her voice was in proper working order again.

"Almost two days. It seems killing an archdemon is no easy feat." He said dryly.

"Who would have guessed huh?" she said, laughing lightly at the absurdity of it all.

He looked at her seriously with something approaching shame in his eyes.

"It was never meant to be you, taking the fall for Jenova." He said. "I'm sorry you got caught in the crossfire."

Hawke's mouth dropped open and for a moment she didn't know whether to be offended or just baffled at the thought processes of this bizarre man creature in front of her.

"Oh really?" She settled for unimpressed. "Well, I'm sorry for ruining you dramatic death scene." She said flatly.

He narrowed his eyes at her, apparently sizing her up. "You don't sound very sorry."

"You're the one who threw the fireball. Do you really think I would have been any less devastated to lose you?" She said, anger starting to bubble up, covering the well of terror she'd found at the thought of losing him.

"Perhaps not, but I-"

"I marched into that Reactor fully prepared to do whatever it took to stop Jenova. I've already lost more people then I care to count to the thrice be damned Blight. Don't act like I got caught in someone else's fight." She said, sitting up straighter and glaring at him. Her hand wrapped around his arm because she needed to be reminded that he was still here. That Jenova couldn't take him from her. "Don't you dare apologize for not dying." She whispered fiercely.

Realisation dawned in his eyes and he stretched a hand out, cradling her cheek. She turned into it.

"Hawke, I watched you die." He said, pain at the memory making his voice hoarse. "I threw a fireball and then you were dead in my arms."

They looked at each other for a moment, both still reeling from having come so close to losing the other. Then they were in each other's arms, clinging desperately in a crushing embrace.

She could barely handle the relief that flooded through her. The wave of pain at moving more than her limbs were ready for just yet was ignored. Just the simple act of holding him and being held brought home the realisation that Jenova was dead. Genesis wasn't going anywhere and his mind was finally free. She buried her head in his shoulder and felt him nuzzling her hair.

"How about," She said breathlessly into his shoulder, "I forgive you for trying to die, and you forgive me for beating you to it?"

"There is nothing to forgive." He said softly into her ear, his arms firmly around her waist and back.

"Damn straight." She said with a smile. Feeling consoled a little they drew back slightly. She was still half sitting in his lap and his hand ran up to softly caressing the nape of her neck. The crushing desperation had burnt down a little. Instead she could simply enjoy being this close to him and relish the rather different tension that simmered between them.

He was looking at her with tender affection, but there was something far more tempting lurking just beneath the surface.

She caressed his cheek before bringing his chin down so she could reach his lips, capturing them with her own.

He melted into her, kissing her slowly, tenderly. His hands ran up and down her spine while hers roamed through his hair. He nipped at her bottom lip and she opened her mouth to him. She supressed a shiver and leaned further into him with a helpless moan. After delving into her mouth and drinking greedily from her lips he moved to her throat, leaving tender little kisses along her neck.

"Do you know that I love you, Hawke?" He murmured when he reached her ear.

Her breath hitched and then she smiled, more touched then she knew how to say.

"Yes, I know." She said lightly, not daring to vocalise the wild beating of her heart that she knew he could feel.

He nipped at her earlobe. "That is not the right response." He said in light-hearted reprimand, holding her a little closer.

She kissed her way back to his mouth. Her eyes fluttered open.

"Do you know that I love you back?" she said against his lips.

His expression lit up with overflowing exultation and his eyes glowed all the brighter. "Of course I know," he said, pecking at her lips. "You didn't think you were being subtle did you?"

She chuckled lightly and leant her forehead against his. One of her hands was on his chest, the other on his shoulder. "Alright then how about this: If you try and split for the afterlife again, by the Maker, I will send you there myself." She said, looking him in the eye and surprising even herself with her sincerity.

"Same to you." He said with equal vehemence, bringing a hand up to her cheek. "And if by whatever magic you ever do go back to Thedas, by the goddess, I will go after you."

Then their lips met again and coherency was lost. All the world fell away before the two mages in each other's arms.


	38. Epilogue

 

It was a week since the fight in the Reactor and the time had come for Hawke and the Soldiers to return to the city. Her strength had finally returned enough that Genesis stopped throwing a fit every time she tried to get out of bed. Her recovery wasn't something either of them had handled with much grace, to the great amusement of the three other soldiers. But now she was well again, Jenova was dead, and Shinra was starting to call and demand to know what they all thought they were up to. It was time to go home.

There was just one thing left to do.

Hawke leaned heavily on her staff as she walked. Her side ached and her breathe was a little laboured in the crisp morning air but she wasn't about to let a little pain stop her. Behind her the valley stretched out into the lower plains, she focused on the weathered path beneath her feet that led up Mount Nibel. It was a lonely little path that cut through the alpine shrubs, an old trail that didn't see much use and led far up above the Reactor.

A few meters away Genesis kept a careful eye on her. They both knew that Jenova had left her battered and beyond exhausted. Her life may have been spared but it would be some time before she recovered her full strength. It was a miracle she was up and walking at all. He had kicked up a massive fuss about her trying to hike up a mountain so soon. She had refused to be deterred however, so he simply had to come along as well, 'overseeing' apparently. She was pretty sure she didn't technically  _need_  the support (there were advantages to a weapon that was also a walking stick) but given what she was here to do, she appreciated his presence.

The thought of what she was doing made her nervous and oddly twitchy so she focused on something else for the moment.

It had been an exhausting week, even for those who weren't recently deceased.

After seeing what Jenova had done to Hawke, Zack had stalked down the mountain and promptly punched Angeal for trying to sneak away and kill her on his own. The older soldier apologized as much as he could. Without the voices to confuse and mislead him, Angeal had been ashamed of his own conduct in the matter. Zack almost immediately forgave him, only stopping to drag a promise out of him that he would never try to kill himself again.

From there Zack had run off to call Aerith. Everyone wanted to thank the Cetra for saving not just Hawke but probably the world as well. However when Zack called Elmyra had been the one to pick up.

Apparently Aerith had woken from her Fade walking trip only to immediately collapse from exhaustion. She recovered soon enough, but her mother was absolutely livid. With insight that bordered on magic, Elymra somehow divined that it was Hawke's fault and demanded answers. The apostate was still unconscious though and the angry woman had ended up on the phone with Sephiroth. When the General realised who he was talking to he tried to thank her for her daughter's part in saving the world, only for Elmyra to launch into a scathing lecture the poor man how no idea how to handle. Had the others not all been in varying states of exhaustion, they would have found it hilarious.

They had all been so exhausted in fact that it was sometime before the soldiers noticed Vincent's disappearance. Hawke wasn't awake long enough to find out at the time but the others had no idea where he went or why, let alone if he was a threat to anyone. It wasn't until four days later that he reappeared with no explanation and looking very pleased with himself.

They would have been incredibly suspicious if Hawke hadn't just gotten a phone call from Reno, telling her that professor Hojo had mysteriously died, shot by someone who nobody saw. The Turks had no idea what could have possibly happened, or who could possibly want to do such a thing. Terribly tragic really, also would he be seeing her at the pub this week?

Vincent had been getting along better with Sephiroth since. In fact, everyone had been getting along better. The absence of Jenova made more of a difference then anyone had expected and the three soldiers marvelled at how clear their thoughts were without her. Hawke was overjoyed that they were finally free.

Now however, she was just really sore. She slowed to a halt. They had reached a small shelf on the mountainside, having just climbed up the ledge. Her breathe was laboured and her staff was probably highly indignant at the misuse she was giving it.

Genesis came and stood next to her, giving her a look that very pointedly said  _'I told you so.'_

She very pointedly ignored it.

"What happens when we get back to Midgar?" She asked, disrupting the calm silence. "With Shinra, I mean."

Genesis looked out over the plains as he answered.

"The president himself called Sephiroth and asked what on Gaia we think we're doing." he said. With both Jenova and Hojo gone Shinra was far less dangerous but he still found sport in hating them. "Perhaps he'll declare us all traitors and we shall have to publically denounce Shinra as the villains they are."

"And if they don't?" Hawke asked. "I guess we could just privately denounce them as villains and I don't know, key their cars? Rig all their air conditioning units with fire spells?"

He snorted. "How devious of you, love."

"Are you going to keep working for them?" She asked thoughtfully after a moment.

"I don't know yet. That would depend on what the others decide to do. But if I did choose to leave, it's unlikely they'd just let me go. I'd probably have to go on the run." He gave her a hesitant look. "How would you feel if it did come to that?"

"Oh, I haven't been on the run in ages." She replied, grinning at him. "I was starting to miss it."

He chuckled, the hesitation fleeing before his usual confidence.

" _Infinite in mystery is the gift of the goddess_." He quoted idly, moving to stand next to her and giving her an adoring expression that she was swiftly starting to adore in turn.

He leant against the same rock she was leaning on and his hand snaked around her waist.

"I am pretty mysterious." She said, leaning against his side.

"Absurd woman." He said, smiling into her hair.

"That too." She hummed in agreement.

"How much further up the Mountain did you want to go?" He asked after a moment of content silence.

She sighed and planted her staff firmly in the ground.

"About here should do." She disentangled herself from him and squared her shoulders, moving closer to the ledge.

The plains stretched out before her. A blanket of low clouds covered most of Nibelheim's little valley and all the land beyond. They hadn't climbed all that high up the slope but already they had broken through into the crisp mountain air above the rolling white clouds. The smell of mako remained in the valley below; here it smelt of the hardy wild grass and little white flowers that thrived in the high altitude.

Even though it was already midmorning the sun had only just shown its face, the mountain range curving around to the south delaying the light of dawn for several hours. Now the dewy mountainside glistened and the cloud covered valley was radiant in the glowing light.

Hawke looked at it all and knew she had stalled enough.

"I would have done this on Sundermount, up beyond the old Dalish graves." She said, reaching into a pouch at her belt. Genesis said nothing from the rock, just watching respectfully.

This was her moment. Her friends deserved this much.

None of them had gotten a funeral. This was the best she could offer them.

She pulled from the pouch a collection of odd bits and pieces, a variety of things she had rooted around for in the village. They were nothing special in and of themselves, but they all held enough meaning for the occasion. It was unorthodox, but maybe that was best.

"We were all outsiders in their own ways. A regular Kirkwall pyre would have been too… normal." She said quietly.

The wind sighed forlornly past her. She took a deep breath and looked down at the little collection of oddities. With her other hand, bound in its gauntlet, she held up the first item.

It was a long white feather, its stem thick and hollow, perfect for writing.

"For Varric." She said softly.

"A Feather?" Genesis asked.

"A quill." She corrected with a hint of smile.

Then with a tiny push of mana she set it alight, the small flame consuming the plumage and leaving only a pinch of ash.

She closed her eyes for a moment, her head drooping. But then she stood up straighter and with a smile the dwarf would have been proud of, she picked up the next piece.

The cork of a wine bottle. The base was stained red, and the top stamped with the year of the crop.

"For Fenris. I hope he's finally moved on from those bitter Tevinter vintages." She said, letting a second flame burn away the cork. It was dry and lasted only a moment before it too was just ash. She smiled sadly to see it go.

"Look after each other, you two." She said. "May you find plenty new stories to tell and new troubles to fight."

The wind swept her hand clean, taking her little memorial out into the world where she could no longer fret over it. She would have to trust them to look after each other now.

She took a deep breath. Now came the hard part.

She held up a little golden marigold.

"For Aveline. I'd have gotten a copper relief of them but I didn't have any on hand." She said. Just the sight of it made her smile at the recollection.

"Why?" Genesis asked, sounding baffled.

Her smile grew wider.

"Metal is strong. Copper ages well. Flowers are soft." She said, offering no further explanation. The flower curled in on itself in golden flames. She cradled the ashes carefully in her hand, not letting the wind carry it away just yet.

Next she held a scrap of vibrant blue cloth. It was soft and silky. She'd cut it from a hat that nobody appeared to be keeping too close an eye on. Isabella would have approved.

"As blue as the seas that called to her." She said softly. "Oh, 'Bella."

"Why a hat?"

"She liked hats." She said with a shrug. "Not that I ever saw her actually wear one."

The cloth frayed in the fire, the colours fading away and the threads collapsing into ash.

She held more ash now then she did bits and pieces, only two items remaining. She took a haltering breath.

She held up a tiny green flower.

"For Merrill. Just as sweet and unassuming as she was." She said, studying the pointed little petals, overlapping in a beautiful pattern. It wasn't just pretty, it was useful too, if you ground it down it would make the potion Mythal's Favour. Merrill had taught her that. If there was one thing the young elf had deserved it was the favour of Mythal, having served her so faithfully for so long.

Flames licked up the stalk of the flower, curling around the petals. It fell into sooty ash.

There was only one item left. She hadn't needed to go looking around Nibelheim for this; she had always carried it with her. Now it was time to let go.

She held up a fraying piece of emergency bandage.

"For Anders." She said, her voice barely a whisper. He had given it to her,  _'For the worst case',_ he'd said. So she had kept it in her pocket for years, always awaiting a bigger disaster. For whenever she might desperately need to fix something.

"He was a healer once, a man who fixed things before the day he decided he wanted to break them." She said, turning the bandage over and over. Short of a Cetra, he was greatest healer she had ever known, and once a dear friend. She pushed flame into the bandage. The white cloth deteriorated quickly, its threads having been pulled loose and moth eaten over the long years.

Soon there was nothing but ashes and memories. Her eyes were dry, but there was a lump in her throat.

"Thanks guys. I had fun." She said thickly.

She held her hand up and the wind quickly picked up the mixed ashes. In a swirl of grey it was swept up and out of her grasp. The sighing breeze flung the last of the ashes out across the slopes, until it disappeared in the haze above the glowing fields and valleys.

They had weighed so little as to be barely noticeable, but to her it felt like a back breaking load that had been claimed by the wind. She would always have her memories and they didn't have to weigh a thing.

She lightly dusted off her now empty hand and smiled wistfully out at the plains.

"Good bye."

She stepped back from the edge, a soft smile on her face.

Genesis stood next to her and his hand entwined with hers.

The past had scattered to the winds before them. Now they would look to their future.

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glad to be here with you Mr. Frodo, here at the end of all things. Thanks so very very much to everyone who gave this a read, especially those of you who commented, you're all champs in my book. I hope you enjoyed this madness as much as I did. Shine on, you crazy diamonds.
> 
> Also, there was fan art! Drawn by the marvellous Lucife56: http://lucife56.deviantart.com/art/wip-491784861
> 
> One last question: I have a series of one shots and prompts set in this universe that aren't immediately part of this story. Should I bother posting them? It's mostly Hawke and Genesis.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Chocobo Knight](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5834785) by [orphan_account](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account)
  * [Night sky](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7869982) by [lucife56](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucife56/pseuds/lucife56)




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